Each Line Tells a Story
by lezonne
Summary: After being cursed at Malfoy Manor, Hermione finds herself with cuts across her body that cannot be healed. Left in constant pain and afraid of her tormentor, she has to find a way to break the curse cast upon her before he comes back to take her life. Dark and very dark themed, gradual romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** This story will focus a lot on torture and both the psychological and physical damage it can inflict. Obviously there is magical influence involved here, but it will be dark and go into more detail if it continues on, so please be warned.

 _I'll make you bleed._

Hermione tapped her quill as she took notes, anxiety working it's way through her chest as she failed to listen. Her mind was a million miles away, months back, focused on pain that she couldn't forget.

Shifting, she ignored the bandages around her torso shifting painfully against the arms. The pain was dull nowadays compared to usual, but she couldn't forget.

She looked down at the parchment, scratched a few notes, and went to scratch her arm again. She was always scratching anxiously these days, unable to sit still.

Unable to forget.

 _I'll bleed you dry._

She clenched her hands together, letting the nails dig into her soft palms, trying to snap herself back into reality. Beside her Ron looked on, oblivious, focused on some sort of bet he had going with Harry today.

It was easy to convince her friends things were fine, especially since _he_ never bothered her during the day. He didn't have to get close, he knew he left a lasting impression on her.

If he wasn't Malfoy's bloody friend he'd never even be in their dorm room, but luck wasn't on her side. _He_ came over too often, leaving her feeling like she just couldn't escape.

Hermione knew exactly where he was sitting in class, on the other side of the room in the back. Without looking she could feel his eyes on her, remembering Malfoy Manor and their encounter.

 _No one will recognize you when I'm finished._

She closed her eyes a moment, forcing the panic away. The war ended months ago, and school was back in session. She'd been sharing a blasted common room with Malfoy for weeks now, and yet she still felt like she was right back there revisiting the same few moments.

And no one seemed to notice anything different about her. She'd been keeping the secret since that day, letting her friends believe the scars came from someone else.

Of course _he_ was at school again, escaping charges just like Malfoy. Whenever _he_ came up to the common room her heart sped up, and she ended up warding her bedroom door just to be safe, or leaving altogether usually to the library.

She should tell someone, but it seemed petty now. She'd been coping since then, why couldn't she now?

"Hermione?"

She almost jumped, realizing Harry was talking to her. He was standing beside her desk, Ron stuffing his notes away as they prepared to leave. She hadn't even noticed class ended.

"Sorry," she said, smiling as she packed her bag. A smile always assured her friends she was okay. She shifted her bag so it didn't hit the side that hurt the most. She was used to making the movements look natural by now. "Guess I got lost in thought."

"You're always lost in thought," Harry replied, stepping in beside her as the trio left class. His eyes were skeptical about her answer, just like always. "What were you thinking about?"

Playfully she rolled her eyes, trying to push down the anxiety. Harry was harder to fool than the others, he payed more attention.

 _Scream for me, Mudblood_.

"I'm just trying to plan what to study," she lied, looping her arm through his. It hurt her other side, but if she didn't act normal he was sure to notice. "I lost so much time to study for the N.E.W.T. test I have to make sure I'm covering everything."

"You've been prepared for two years," Ron reminded, looking elsewhere in the crowd. He didn't notice the details as much, and Ron was much easier to fool when she needed to. "You have nothing to worry about. Why don't you come over to the common room tonight? You haven't come by practically since term started."

She swallowed, fighting down her nerves. Yes, she loved going to see her friends, but she was worried about running into him in the corridors. _He_ found her just days after school started again, and he'd reminded her of just how evil he could be.

Her side was still tender from the encounter, more so than usual. Her body always hurt from the never-ending cuts, but after that first slip-up she'd learned to be extra-cautious.

If she could just find a counter to this damn spell, she'd be home free. If the cuts would close up she wouldn't be in all this pain.

"I need to meet with Malfoy tonight about patrols," she replied, rolling her eyes. "He is so difficult to schedule with, but I know he'll be there tonight. I have to catch him or we'll never get the schedule done."

Harry frowned again, pulling her a little closer as they walked. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting when her side bumped his, fisting her hand together inside the pocket of her robe. Ron was looking in the other direction, and she knew he was already off somewhere else in his mind. "That shouldn't take all night."

Hermione laughed, this time knowing she could tell the truth. "You don't spend time with Malfoy. He's a right arse to try and catch, and it's even harder to get him to listen."

Relenting Harry let the topic drop, steering them towards the Great Hall. She fell into step with him, ignoring the pain in her side. She was occupied tonight, but not with  
Malfoy.

She had to get books and get back to her room. The last thing she wanted was to run into Malfoy and his _friends_. But she had to research, she had to find a way to stop him.

She had to break this spell.

* * *

For Hermione, the most nerve-wracking part of her day was getting from the door of their common room to her bedroom safely. When it was just Malfoy she could sidestep the bloke, but when _he_ was there it was so much harder.

Maybe Malfoy didn't notice, and he probably didn't care, but how could he miss the malice in his friend's face? Malfoy was mean, but _he_ was downright sinister.

Stepping into the common room she realized luck was not on her side. Already the marks on her skin were starting to sting, and she knew they would burn and bleed soon enough. _He_ seemed to have influence over the spell when he was close, or at least that's what she assumed, and that meant he was in the dorm somewhere.

Shutting the door, she realized _he_ was sitting in the chair right behind it. Despite herself she jumped a little, already feeling the cuts rising in her skin, pain cutting across her chest and back. Across the coffee table on the sofa, Malfoy and Nott seemed oblivious to his venomous stare, carrying on their conversation as though nothing abnormal was going on.

"And then the bloke actually had the audacity to ask if _I_ spiked the drinks!" Nott continued, laughing at his own joke. Theo had a bottle of something in his hand, but between the stack of books in her arms and her desire to not look _his_ way, she could care less about what the label said.

Malfoy glanced sideways at her as she kicked the door shut, crinkling his nose. "Don't you have enough bloody books in there? You come back with at least that many every day."

Beside her _he_ scoffed, causing her heart to jump. "Leave her be Draco. At least she's keeping herself _occupied_."

Draco scowled, leaning further into the sofa, his own bottle propped on the table. "Bugger off Blaise. There aren't enough books in the fucking world to occupy her."

She recoiled even at just his name, shooting Zabini a glance over her shoulder as she stepped towards her room.

Zabini, the reason she couldn't sleep at night.

 _You're never going to forget me, Mudblood._

Zabini, who scared her more than anyone else she encountered during the war. Of course it had to be Malfoy's friend, someone she was likely to run into again.

She never knew he could be so cold.

Hermione felt her shirt begin to dampen as she moved towards her room, flicking the handle with her elbow. Blaise's gaze was locked on her as she pushed into her room, realizing as the door swung shut that a line of blood was starting to drip down her neck.

And Malfoy and Nott somehow missed it. Everyone missed it every damn time.

Dropping her books on the bed she let out a hiss, dropping her hands down onto her mattress. Taking a deep breath she snatched her wand out of her back pocket, warding and locking the door in an instant. She wasn't stupid enough to take any chances.

Taking a strangled breath she stood and unbuttoned her shirt, whimpering as she pulled the fabric away from her skin, now littered with marks that weren't bleeding before. She looked down at herself and suppressed a scream.

Little, painful lines ran across her chest, torso and arms, lines dripping bits of blood as she stood watching. These damn marks that she couldn't heal no matter the potion or spell; Zabini's never-ending reminder on her skin.

Zabini.

 _I'll ruin you._

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to calm herself down. The pain was causing her knees to shake as the cuts widened, dripping more blood and she fell to her knees, pain shooting up her body on contact.

Even after all these months, he still left his mark on her, a mark she couldn't seem to erase.

He'd tortured her there at the Manor, dragging her away when Bellatrix grew bored. The curses he'd used to make the marks stay and last, bleeding on command.

She blinked, feeling her eyes water. It hurt, but the memory was so much worse. He'd used some kind of dark curse, and even muggle means only slowed the pain of those cuts. She had to find a cure for herself to stop from bleeding and hurting, she just needed to find the right book.

She needed to stay away from him.

Taking a deep breath she wandered to the shared bathroom, listening intently in case Malfoy or one of his friends decided they needed to come in. Using practiced movements she soaked a towel to apply to her wounds, wincing and gasping whether the pain intensified.

He seemed to control the pain just by being near, but how was that possible?

Most of the time he didn't even need to be near to cause her distress. The cuts were almost on a timer, and once a day would begin to bleed and throb. There was a dull ache of pain surrounding her nowadays anyway, but when Zabini was nearby it seemed to intensify.

Pressing a towel to the largest wound on her torso she suppressed a scream, the water seeming to burn instead of help. It was always worse when he was this close but she didn't know what else to do, magic didn't help.

 _I have to do something; he could kill me if he keeps this up._

Sinking onto the bathroom floor she tried to calm her mind. Panicking never helped her, and she needed to rationally wrap the wounds to try and stop the bleeding as she had done since that cursed day. She thought for a while it was just the lasting evidence of torture, but as time passed and the wounds never truly healed she realized something was terribly wrong.

Dragging herself back to her feet, she snatched up a second towel to return to her room. She kept all the bandages she'd obtained hidden in there, in the second drawer next to her bed. The last thing she needed was Malfoy or one of his friends finding them.

Sitting down on her bed she began wrapping the bandages around her torso, hoping the combination of bandages and potions would help her get some sleep tonight. She wouldn't feel better until Zabini left the dorm, but hopefully she could get some rest.

Glancing towards the door, she bit back a combination of anger and disappointment. Zabini seemed to believe he had complete control over her after everything, and he didn't even try to hide his hate for her these days.

She had to get him back. She had to find a way to save herself.

* * *

Draco knew his roommate was acting weird. Despite having shared a dorm with her for over a month she rarely had anything to say to him, and spent most of her time locked away in her room like a recluse.

What the bloody hell?

He attempted to listen to Blaise drone on about something but couldn't really focus. For some reason these two blokes always wanted to come up to his dorm instead of hanging out in the Slytherin common room. Sure, this is more private, but Zabini always wanted to come up here the same time every day.

He was starting to think he had a thing for Granger, but knew that was impossible. Blaise had a stronger hate for Mudblood's than he did; he couldn't imagine the bloke actually having feelings for one.

Then again, when she wasn't trying to hide under those god-awful sweaters Granger seemed to have developed some sort of body. After sharing a bathroom for the last several weeks he'd at least noticed that much.

Still, Blaise shouldn't be feeling anything for her. He was more likely to try to kill her than admire her.

"Don't you think so Draco?"

He suppressed a scowl, glancing at his longtime friend. Blaise wasn't looking in his direction however, he seemed solely focused on Granger's door.

He always seemed to be focusing on her door.

"Think what?"

"Mudblood's been awfully studious lately," Blaise continued, narrowing his eyes a little. "You said she comes by with books every day? That seems like a lot of reading, even for her. Those books don't seem like the kind you have to read for N.E.W.T.'s."

Draco suppressed a groan, reaching forward towards his bottle again. "What does it matter? She reads, she doesn't bother me. Better yet, she doesn't bring those bleeding friends of hers around here."

"She doesn't?"

"You sure do care a lot about Granger," Theo interrupted, sitting forward in his seat. "You ask about her almost every day. Think you got a little crush going on?"

Blaise scowled, a shadow coming over his eyes surprisingly quick. "No, I don't."

Draco nodded, eyeing Blaise over the rim of his bottle. _There he goes again, acting strange._

They dropped the topic, switching to something to do with Quidditch. Draco attempted to focus but couldn't quite zone in on the conversation. Blaise was focusing awfully hard on Granger's door, like he expected her to suddenly come flying out of the room.

He always seemed to be looking for her.

Draco just couldn't figure out what was so damn interesting about Granger. To his knowledge, Blaise never spent a lot of time with her. The only time he'd even been in the same general area as the girl this past year was the day she and her little friends were captured and brought to the Manor.

 _Stop thinking about it._

He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. The day Potter came to his home was a fateful day indeed. He could still see Bellatrix in his mind torturing the girl, before dragging her off up the stairs to continue interrogation when her friends grew distracting.

He remembered that day very well.

While Granger was upstairs being tortured the Order attached. The Dark Lord was there that night, and the battle ensued. Potter ended up killing Voldemort, and at some point Granger was found and taken away. None of the Golden Trio were around when Draco stumbled out of what was left of his home and was arrested on site with the other members.

It happened so quickly there was no time to prepare. Voldemort wasn't supposed to be there that day, and no one planned for the Golden Trio to be captured. Longbottom finished off the last Horcrux, and the war was wrapped up in hours.

Draco knew Bella was killed upstairs, but he'd heard through the grapevine that she wasn't near where Granger was found. In fact, if everything he heard was true she wasn't even in the same wing anymore as his aunt, and Granger was hardly recognizable when they located her.

They thought she was dead at first. He wondered what his aunt did to her exactly, but didn't dare ask. Granger never had to testify about what happened, as Bella was dead by the time the Order won.

He didn't really want to know. He didn't really feel guilty about what happened to her; there was no controlling Bella. Still, he didn't ask her about anything to do with the war when they found out they were roommates. Most of the time he just avoided Granger altogether.

She hated him, and that was fine. He wasn't exactly fond of her either.

He'd barely escaped Azkaban by the skin of his teeth after that, Blaise and Nott following suit. He never quite figured out why Blaise's trial seemed so much longer than his own.

"Anyway I have to meet Daphne," Blaise continued, standing from his seat. He cast another look in the direction of Granger's room, his lips practically curling into a snarl. Draco still wasn't exactly sure why his hatred ran so deep. "I promised I'd go find her tonight."

"I guess I better go too," Theo agreed, standing to stretch. He lifted his bottle in a salute as he wandered towards the door, swaying but not staggering. "If I don't I won't be able to make it down there later."

Draco smirked, following the duo to the door. This was a little more normal than before, but he still couldn't escape the feeling that Blaise was extra moody tonight. The Italian shot a glare over his shoulder as the main door swung open, as though he expected to spot Granger somewhere before departing.

"Tomorrow's Saturday," Theo reminded, jabbing a finger over his shoulder in the hallway. "Means a Hogsmeade trip. You in?"

"Not like I have anything else to do," Draco replied, inclining his head. Blaise was still halfway in the door, and he gave his friend a nudge with the frame. He was acting strange.

Glancing over his shoulder he noticed Granger was in the doorway to her room, staring out at Zabini with an expression of panic. He hadn't even heard her come out. It seemed strange that she would be concerned about spotting his friends, especially since she had no reason to care and they were in the middle of leaving.

"Done reading Granger?" Blaise asked, eyes gleaming as he watched her. Draco frowned, nudging him with the door again.

"Zabini, your arse is blocking the door. Either get in or get the hell out."

Blaise smirked, following Theo out the door. "Don't get pissy Draco, I was just leaving."

Draco scoffed, shutting the door behind him. Zabini really knew how to grate his nerves when he wanted to. Turning he noticed Granger still standing in her doorway, arms crossed tight over her chest.

"What are you doing there?" he asked, walking back towards the table. "I thought you needed to read."

"I was just getting something to eat," she replied, her voice surprisingly hollow. He arched an eyebrow as she crossed the room, stopping beside their small kitchenette to dig through a cupboard. He tilted his head, noticing her sweater.

"You look bulky Granger."

She jumped, successfully dropping whatever snack she'd dug out of the cabinet, whirling around so fast she almost hit her head on the door. "What?"

Draco frowned, taking a sip of his drink, watching her eyes widen. "You look bulky. How many layers do you have going on under that bloody thing? It's October, it isn't that cold yet. We haven't even seen snow."

"Oh, my room is just chilly. Really I didn't think it mattered what I wore in here."

"No it doesn't," he replied, crinkling his nose. "But do you have to go for such a hideous look? No wonder Blaise was staring to you, you look like a moron."

She seemed to tense at his words, and Draco didn't miss the reaction. He'd noticed over the past few weeks that she never came out when Blaise was here, and she liked talking about him even less.

Blaise didn't seem to have a problem talking about her however.

"It's just a comfortable sweater Malfoy," she huffed, regaining her composure. She smoothed back her hair, grabbing the snack bag off the floor as she approached. She cringed when she stood, favoring one side. He'd noticed lately that she favored one side over the other, and she almost always had a hard time bending over.

Despite himself, he was starting to wonder why.

She walked a lot slower back to her dorm room, almost shuffling along. He hadn't seen her do that yet, and was nearly about to retort when he noticed something slipping down the back of her neck, leaving a thin trail.

"Are you bleeding?"

Granger froze at the door, her entire body tensing. One arm flew to the side of her neck, directly where the line was dripping down. He watched as a second one followed, almost seeming to rise out of her skin as blood appeared.

"I-it's nothing," she muttered, dropping the bag again. He stood, watching the second cut widen, the blood bubbling up before beginning to flow down her neck, painting the fingers pressed there red.

"Granger-"

She darted forward, slamming her door shut before he could make a move. Draco sat there a moment, stumped. Was he drunk, or was blood sprouting up on her skin out of nowhere?

He sank further into the sofa, rubbing his eyes. It was probably an illusion, a trick of the light. Maybe he was getting buzzed already and just hadn't noticed yet.

But that didn't explain her reaction.

Shaking his head, he grabbed the bottle again. He was probably tripping, that was it. There was no logical reason why Granger would start bleeding out of thin air, and even less why she would try to brush it off.

Still, he knew she'd been acting weird. He'd have to keep an eye on her now.

 **A/n: So, if you haven't realized this deviates from most of book 7 and I intend for it to continue moving in a different direction. It will probably get darker, as I am a major fan of dark stories, but I can't say how dark.**

 **Also, Blaise is usually the good guy in my stories so exploring a dark version of him would be a challenge for me. If I continue the story, it will delve deeper into the torture he inflicted on Hermione and what all that entails. If you believe it should be darker, or that seems to be the direction this should move, please specify.**

 **I don't know if I will be continuing or not, I was on a break for a long time and am getting back into writing. We will see where this goes. Thank you for reading and if you have any thoughts please share.**


	2. Chapter 2

"You okay?"

Hermione jumped, ignoring the way her side screamed in pain from the sudden movement. She thought she'd find a bit of piece in the local bookstore in Hogsmeade, but that was only a dream. Ginny followed her into the store, and now looking for any books on curses would look suspicious.

"I'm just feeling a little under the weather," she lied, giving her ginger friend a dazzling smile. She knew she looked suspicious after huffing and puffing on the walk here, her side screaming in pain. She was also developing a painful set of cuts on the middle of her back. She hadn't felt those since Malfoy Manor, and it was unsettling to feel them now. Having that reminder and the added pain on her skin made the journey there quite difficult.

Of course, it didn't help that she was sleep deprived from nightmares and losing blood at an alarming rate. She desperately needed more blood replenishment potion, but that would require buying more supplies today.

And she already had enough to buy. She couldn't rightly take some from Hogwarts supply's without question, and buying a pre-made version would be suspicious to everyone.

"You sure look pale," Ginny muttered, stuffing her hands down into her pockets. "Do you want some tea? We could go to that great little store down the block."

Smiling, she nodded, ignoring her dull headache. Last night was worse, as soon as the blood started dripping down her neck the headache followed, much worse when it initially began than now. She recalled the original head wound that caused blood to drip down her neck and suppressed a shudder. She really didn't want to remember. She hadn't felt that one for a while. Apparently, whatever spell Blaise cast on her back then allowed him to _pick_ how he wanted to torture her. She was seeing the reminders of old scars surfacing all the time, pain following suit.

Would it ever end?

Sighing, she tried to clear her head a look around the store. Maybe she could just grab the curses book and call it some light reading? Knowing her habits, that didn't seem overly far-fetched.

Browsing through the titles, she thought about last night. Malfoy noticed the blood dripping down her neck, and that was really bad. It was almost the end of October and she thought she was doing a good job keeping it a secret from everyone. Oh well, one lousy slip-up wouldn't be enough to condemn her. He probably didn't give a damn.

Unless he decided to mention it to Blaise. Then she'd be in a world of hurt. Thankfully she hadn't seen the twit at all today, and with Ginny around he definitely wouldn't bother her. Solitude might be beneficial for her purchasing abilities but not for her safety.

 _Do you like seeing your blood on the floor?_

She cringed, shoving the book in her hand back onto the shelves. It seemed she could never escape him, inside her mind or out. All his horrid words would be there forever, a reminder of his hate.

 _Lick it Mudblood! I won't ask again._

She gasped, leaning her head against the bookcase. His words never _really_ left her, and all his heinous actions stuck in her mind like glue. She recalled the cursed knife he'd used to slit open her left arm, leaving the decorated _Mudblood_ scar alone on her other. He'd wanted her to lick the blood off after.

He wanted so much more too.

"Find anything?" Ginny asked, popping out from behind another shelf. Hermione swallowed her memories and glanced towards the ginger, giving her a strained smile.

The scars themselves weren't actually bleeding yet today, but she knew it was only a matter of time. There was no way she'd be able to last all day in Hogsmeade, she'd have to leave early to get back to her common room.

If she didn't, they'd see the blood starting to pool beneath the muggle bandages she wore. Since potions weren't working to slow the bleeding and pain she had to have something in place to stop blood from immediately seeping through her clothing. Still, her supply was beginning to run low and she'd need to replenish soon.

"I haven't yet," she whispered, nodding to Ginny to follow her to the other side of the store. She definitely needed to try to find something; the books at Hogwarts were informative but did not help her draw a conclusion for what to do. She'd have to sneak into the restricted section next, but that involved going out at night when the magic was usually worse.

She couldn't just _bleed_ in the restricted section. She needed to find a better solution first before he tried killing her again.

Hermione cringed at the thought, grabbing the first thick curse book she found. "This should do. Come on, I wanna be able to go to the potion shop too."

Ginny frowned, following her to the front of the store. "Potions? What on earth would you need that for? I thought you were big into studying for N.E.W.T's right now."

"You should be too," she retorted, eyeing the redhead as she paid. "We all have the same test at the end of the year."

She stuck out her tongue, lightly nudging Hermione as they walked out. Somehow Ginny missed the sharp inhale of breath, and her fingers moving to press over her wounded side.

Hermione knew her ribs were bruised, potentially broken, from her encounter with Blaise in the halls. Whatever wasn't bleeding on her side when he was done with her was marred with so many bruises she couldn't see the skin.

At least it was easier to breathe now, and she could fake a smile when Ginny glanced her way, leading her to the tea shop.

She just didn't know how much longer she could continue lying to everyone. No one knew that Blaise tortured her, even the interrogators at the Ministry. They didn't ask the right _questions_ , didn't pry into his head. Everyone assumed Bellatrix was the one who tormented her.

Blaise didn't have much of a stance in the war from what she knew. He was in the background, and she hadn't realized he'd taken the mark until she encountered him at the Manor. If they didn't have a history now, she may not believe he e _ver_ did.

He simply didn't come across as hostile to anyone else. He was grouchy just like Malfoy, but not cruel like he was to her. She didn't know if he just harbored a hatred now towards her, or if he was just that good of an actor.

She flinched, recalling his little charade when Order arrived at the Manor unexpectedly, trying to cover his tracks:

 _Blaise stopped dragging the knife across her skin at the sounds of screaming, the intensity drowned out by her own. Panting, she tried to catch her breath as the blade left her skin, the knife stained dark in the low light._

 _Taking a shuddering breath, she choked, coughing up blood into the floor, her throat raw from cries of pain. Her body was spasming, the ground sticky from the blood she'd already lost._

 _Her head was screaming, but she couldn't lift her arm to touch the wound above her temple. Glancing down at her fingers with her vision swimming, she tried to clench her hand before realizing she couldn't because the skin was split from elbow to wrist, the dust and dirt mixing into the cut. The tendons were exposed and torn, and she couldn't even make her digits twitch. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it'd be infected._

 _Zabini was muttering something to himself, footsteps approaching all around them. Bellatrix was supposed to be there, not him. She couldn't recall how or why the switch happened, but she was definitely there with the mad woman originally._

 _She wanted to scoot away from him but her legs wouldn't work, one leg broken at the knee and the other at the ankle. He'd snapped the bones so easily, laughing when she screamed. She knew there were more bones broken elsewhere, but she couldn't recall where. Her body was slowly going numb, parts of her anatomy fading completely from her mind. She couldn't figure out if that was due to her body being in so much pain she was losing feeling, or if her mind was just starting to slip._

 _Her side was screaming, but she couldn't recall why? The rest of her body was questionable, but the pain there was just as vivid as before. Did he stab or kick her there? Or maybe it was a spell, she didn't remember…_

 _A scream ripped from her throat when he stepped on her shredded arm, his boot digging into the gash and splintering the bone further, dragging the torn tendons around. He ground the sole into her skin, the blood causing his shoe to catch and tear the skin further. She whimpered as he took the pressure off, her heart hammering too fast in her chest as she tried to capture air._

" _I'll have to finish another time," he said, his voice distant and floating in her ears. She tried to focus on his face, but his entire form was blurred between the dots in her vision and the shadows in the room._

 _She tried to jerk back when she felt something slip into her hand, the scar from Bellatrix's handiwork shooting pain up her arm when he dragged his nails over it. His hand clasped over hers, and though she was mildly surprised he was touching her she was more concerned about what he was putting in her hand._

 _It was a wand, his hand pressed over hers._

" _Stupefy," he whispered, his snarl flashing across her vision as the spell lit up, disappearing a moment later when it stunned him, causing him to stumble and fall nearby, barely missing her shattered leg._

Hermione very clearly remembered him getting away with her attack. The wand he used was her own, and with her hand pressed under his the wand registered that she was the last caster.

It didn't matter that she testified against him, he still got off easy. All the torture she experienced was enough to drive anyone mad, and while she did recall a bit of what he'd done to her she couldn't recall the details. Her testimony was shaky, and she kept getting splitting headaches when she tried recalling significant details.

She did remember waking at St. Mungo's sometime later with Harry and Ron breathing down the Minister's throat demanding something be done. They thought it was Bellatrix, just like everyone else.

In fact, she knew she mentioned that witches name sometime during her testimony, but she hadn't realized she was confused. How could she mistake such important details when some of his torturous aspects were so vivid.

It didn't matter, the evidence wasn't provable and Hermione refused to let them dig through her mind. She didn't want anyone to see all the horrible things he'd done to her, and she definitely did not want to relive it. Trying to tell the judge and prosecutors was rough enough, she couldn't fathom letting them relive it.

He was _supposed_ to get time in Azkaban, just like Malfoy. She was certain her testimony alone would be enough to incriminate him, especially with her track record. She should at least be believable. Instead both Death Eater's got off nearly scott-free, getting to go back to school like they hadn't done anything wrong.

She spoke to Harry and Ron, and they were prepared to go to the Ministry to fight the judgment. She didn't indulge them in what happened, but she was insistent that he needed to be imprisoned.

Then things started going wrong.

It took a while, even with magic, for the scars to heal. Psychologically she still felt haunted, but at least the physical damage was gone. Just before term started the cuts and gashes started showing up and bleeding, surprising her in the middle of dinner with the Weasley's. She had to bolt and go deal with it, and it was a disaster ever since. Sometimes the wounds closed up, sometimes they didn't. She knew it had to be _his_ fault.

That was the only explanation she could come up with.

He couldn't go to Azkaban yet. That wouldn't be enough to stop the scars, she was sure of it. She was bleeding over the summer even before even seeing him again. Distance didn't seem to be factor in his control. She needed him to see her beat this and be healthy again, beat his stupid game.

He had to know she could best him, or there would be on victory. He'd still think he had leverage over her, and she couldn't allow that.

Glancing down at her wrist, she recognized the telltale signs of the one scar that wouldn't heal. Proper potions and treatment right after the attack allowed pretty much all of her scars to heal with time, but this one stubbornly refused to fade. Of course the one real scar Bellatrix left behind, _Mudblood_ , wouldn't fade.

 _I don't think I'll fuck with this one Mudblood. It's already so fitting._

She flinched –

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, drawing her out of her raging thoughts. She had one hand on her shoulder, gently shaking the girl. "Are you alright? You completely spaced out on me for a minute."

She was bad about that now, spacing out. She would get lost in thought thinking about him and just forget everything else around her.

She was absolutely terrified of him. Most of what happened she'd suppressed, refusing to acknowledge that one deranged human being could do that to another. She knew it happened, down to the last gritty detail, but if she thought about it she would just hyperventilate.

She had to beat him, and figure out how to stop this crazy curse. Otherwise she didn't know how she'd move past the experience.

She gave Ginny a soft smile, knowing her mask wasn't as passible as before. She could feel panic creeping up her throat, but if she let her fear show there was no way she'd be able to get it back under control. "Sorry, thinking."

Ginny's expression dropped, her carefree nature disappearing. Whenever Hermione said anything like that anymore they always assumed it was memories of Bellatrix. "Don't worry, we can just go to the potion shop and meet up with the boys if you want. I know Ron's dying to spend some time with you. Come on, we can stop by the candy shop on the way too. I'm sure sweets would help perk you right up."

Hermione tried to smile but couldn't quite do it, letting her friend gently pull her down the street. Ginny meant well, but her reaction did little to comfort her. She could always see beneath the masks her friends wore, down to an emotion she wished they wouldn't associate with her.

Pity.

* * *

"You don't want to go back?" Hermione sighed, trying to convince Ron to come with her back to the school. It was dark now, late October hours creeping up on her without warning. The cuts were rising up on her skin now, the pain beginning to bite at her and she knew she needed to get back before anything else happened.

She was just scared to travel alone in the dark. She had enough nightmares as it was, she didn't need more.

Ron grinned at her but couldn't quite hold the expression, slipping into a fit of giggles. She should've known alcohol was a bad idea, but the boys already had a drink or two by the time they found them. They were all legal now, celebrating in the aftermath of war. Why wouldn't they drink?

Still, everyone was tipsy and no one wanted to leave yet. She hadn't had a drop, afraid of what might happen if she did. She couldn't be intoxicated and forget to go back early to the castle, and she definitely couldn't let her friends see all her marks.

And if she tried going back to the castle and _he_ found her, she'd be dead.

"Come on Hermione, have a drink."

She shook her head, pushing back the mug again. She didn't want anything, and glancing out the window she knew it was darker than she wanted it to be. There would still be a decent amount of people out of the path between here and Hogwarts, but she didn't want to take any more risks.

"No thanks," she replied, standing from her seat. Ginny and Harry stopped their conversation to pay attention, and even Luna and Neville detached themselves from their game long enough to look up. "I need to get back to the castle anyway, what with Head duties and all. It's only Saturday, I should have patrols in a couple hours."

"Do you need someone to walk you back?" Harry asked, looking pointedly at Ron. The ginger frowned, shooting his friend a glance before directing his attention back to Hermione.

"I'll be fine," she managed, ignoring the looks in her friends eyes. They really did look concerned and she appreciated that, but the pitying expressions were more than she could handle. She didn't want to travel alone, but she didn't want to seem weak either. She had her wand this time and wouldn't be bested again. "It's not long, and it isn't totally dark yet."

Harry looked skeptical, but the liquor in his system seemed to cloud his judgment. "You sure?"

 _No._ "Of course, it's a short walk back."

 _And I'll be on my guard._

No one argued with her, but she could feel their eyes on her back as she turned to go. At least her bag helped ease the weight of all her purchases, but it did nothing to distract from the pain edging into her brain.

She could feel the cuts beginning to rise and bleed. Fingering the wand in her pocket, she inhaled sharply as the pain struck. This would make the journey back way more difficult.

Stepping out into the cool night air she was thankful she dressed so heavy this morning. Now she had some protection against the elements as she wandered back, and a way to hide herself if she started to bleed.

"Leaving already?"

Hermione almost jumped out of her skin, spinning around with her wand instantly drawn right in the middle of the street. The blond she was aiming for raised his brows, gently shoving the wand aside.

"Well damn Granger, if you don't want to talk I'll just leave," he scoffed, sidestepping her. "A little tense tonight aren't we?"

She took a breath, realizing it was only Malfoy. "You're leaving too," she muttered, noting the direction he was walking.

"Well _someone_ bribed me to work their patrols tonight," he snapped, glaring off the other way. Glancing over her shoulder she could see someone waving, and she guessed it was the slippery Ravenclaw who was supposed to share patrols with her tonight.

And now she was stuck with Malfoy?

"How did someone manage to bribe you into more work?" she asked, genuinely curious. She hadn't been able to get the wanker to do most of his own job, much less others.

Malfoy smirked, reaching into his pocket to pull out a bottle. A fancy bottle at that, and it looked pretty expensive. "Ravenclaws are smart when they want to be. He just had to offer the right persuasion."

"To the head boy?" She was marginally horrified he accepted the bribe. "And that actually worked?"

"It will only work tonight," he snapped, glancing back down the road towards another bar. "And anyway, what's it matter to you?"

"I'm on patrols tonight," she sighed, turning back towards the school. Her body was aching, and she couldn't waste more time standing there. Having Malfoy in the dorm wouldn't be much of a complication, but patrolling with him would. "And I don't want to deal with your drunk arse all night."

"It won't be bad," Malfoy replied, smirking at her. He fell into step beside her, ignoring the odd look she sent his way. "I'm a controlled drunk. You can leave me the hell alone and you won't even notice I'm there."

"Sure I won't," she muttered, brushing at her hair as the wind blew it around her face. Despite herself she didn't mind having Malfoy there, even if he wasn't her first choice of company. He hadn't insulted her yet, but she was certain that was coming soon. They couldn't have a civil conversation for this long without him taking a jab at her.

At least Zabini couldn't bother her this way. It would look weird if he suddenly showed up and took an interest in her. Even Malfoy would notice that.

Her breath hitched as they began walking up the hill, the cuts in her side spreading and the ache giving her a stitch. Malfoy shot her a curious look as they walked but didn't say anything, continuing on as though he hadn't noticed.

Maybe he just wouldn't bring up the whole incident with blood on her neck last night at all. She assumed that's why he decided to walk with her, but so far he was proving her wrong.

She just couldn't figure out Malfoy.

* * *

Draco had half a mind to pat her on the back to see if she'd topple over.

They were back to the grounds of the school, Hogwarts gates in view. She was breathing pretty hard for someone taking a leisurely walk, and he knew she couldn't be that unfit after fighting in a war.

Then again, she also almost died. Maybe her breathing habit was natural. He certainly didn't spend enough time with her to know.

He kept glancing at her from the corners of his eyes as they walked, and she either didn't notice or didn't care. She as more hunched over than when she began, and one hand was pressed tight over her side.

He was pretty impressed she walked by him the whole way there. He expected that she would scoff and wander off, or he'd come to his senses and leave her in the dust.

Fiddling with the wand in his pocket, he assessed her again. She didn't look like she was dying, but she was certainly paler than when the walk started. Beads of sweat were appearing on her brow, but he couldn't figure out how that was possible with the cold wind.

His brows drew together, thinking about why he decided to walk with her to the school in the first place.

" _Mudblood going out tonight?" Blaise asked, following him around the store. Draco didn't have a particular interest in what they were looking at, he just wanted to waste some time as far from the school as possible._

" _Does it matter?" he scoffed, eyeing his friend. "I don't keep tabs on the bloody girl."_

 _He thought he saw something dark glint across his eyes at that, but the look disappeared just as quickly as it arrived. "She's definitely secretive lately."_

" _She's a bookworm recluse who has no more of a desire to hang out with people than she has the last several years," Draco snapped, losing his temper. "Now why exactly do you care about what she's doing? Half the time you complain that she's even in the damn common room."_

 _Blaise shrugged, glancing out the window. "She's just been a little strange this year. Doesn't she seem more hesitant to you?"_

" _How would I know? Most of the time she's avoiding me anyway."_

" _She's definitely more hesitant," he muttered, seeming offended that Draco hadn't noticed. Without warning he stormed out of the store, the blond following along to see what had him in a huff this time._

 _It was dark, and he knew he could go find Pansy and Theo and party anytime now. That was the real reason he was waiting around, hoping something would happen. Blaise however seemed to have his own agenda, and started wandering down the road muttering to himself, his voice lost in the wind._

 _Draco felt his eyebrows shoot up, watching his friend pause at a light post to scowl and look around. He was definitely moody today, much more so than usual. After a moment's hesitation he followed, wondering what had Zabini in such a bad mood this time._

 _He sure was temperamental lately._

" _I'm going to turn in early," Blaise said, cutting off anything Draco may have said. His eyes were trained on the window in front of them, just across the road. Through the glass he could see multiple classmates, but most noticeably he could see Granger, sitting among her friends. Considering how much of a strange interest Blaise had in her, he only assumed that's who he was focused on._

" _Really?" Draco asked, stuffing his hands down into his pockets. "And why the hell would you do that? Daphne will be livid if you don't show up."_

" _I got something to do tonight," he snapped in return, eyes never leaving the window. Draco was certain his eyes were following Granger now. "I have a game to play."_

" _What does that mean?" Blaise didn't respond, and Draco felt his heartrate quicken. He was practically glaring through the window at her, hate radiating off him in waves. He didn't recall Blaise harboring so much disgust towards the girl previously._

 _Shrugging, Blaise shot him a look, a grin splitting across his features. "Come on, don't give me that look. I won't miss out on tonight. I will have to go back to school though for a while. I forgot some pepper-up potion to get me back tomorrow."_

 _Draco nodded, but didn't buy the lie. Blaise wasn't known to care about preplanning, and he doubted the bloke remembered pepper-up potion ever when it came to hangovers. He didn't comment as he jogged off in the direction of school. There was absolutely no way he was going back just for that._

 _Blaise took off without another word, spinning on his heel to stomp back towards the school. Draco scoffed, wondering if he'd make it back to the school without causing a scene. His temper was getting the better of him lately._

 _He only somewhat controlled his cool during school._

 _Glancing towards the group again, he noted Granger seemed about the depart. She looked like she was pulling on Weasley's arm, but there were a lot of people in the way blocking his view._

 _Coming out of the same building he spotted someone in Ravenclaw robes, and recognized him as the twit who had patrols tonight. Granger almost always set the schedule so they worked together because she seemed to enjoy his company. He'd have to head off towards school soon to get ready for patrols._

 _Same way Blaise went. For some reason he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad would happen. With a sign he marched over to the bloke, already dreading his next move._

" _Hey, I got a proposition for you…"_

Draco hadn't actually seen Blaise yet, but his actions earlier led him to believe something bad would happen. The idiot Ravenclaw was more than willing to trade for tomorrow, and he was already regretting giving up his night.

All for the damn head girl? He must've hit his head sometime today, he couldn't possibly be on her side.

But the way Blaise sometimes looked at her… Draco would be a fool to not notice. He never looked at anyone as cruelly as he did Granger, and his unusual interest in her day to day habits was unsettling at best.

He either didn't plan on harassing her on the walk back, or didn't know what to do with Draco walking by her side. Just because he assumed Blaise's intentions were bad didn't mean they actually were. Maybe he was just obsessed.

Then again, that might be bad too.

He tapped his pocket, the bottle he'd purchased earlier sitting heavy in his cloak. He wanted desperately to go upstairs and make up a drink, but he had a bone to pick with Granger first.

"You going to tell me what the blood was yesterday?" he asked as they reached the stairs, the hallways not much warmer down here than outside. She jumped, lost in her own thoughts.

"What blood?"

"Don't play stupid Granger," he snapped, ignoring the way she frowned. One hand was still pressed to her side over the coat, and her nails were actually digging into the fabric. "The blood dripping down your neck last night."

Her eyes flashed, and she stopped climbing the stairs to glare at him. "That's really none of your business Malfoy."

He scoffed, glaring at her. "It's not exactly natural either. And why are you holding your side?"

"I have a stitch."

"You have _way_ more than that if you're barely holding yourself up. You're panting, and it's increased since we tried climbing up the stairs."

Granger sighed, attempting to move past him. She inhaled sharply, hand moving from her side to her chest to press there as though the pain had suddenly moved.

"And see, now you're doing that. What the hell even is that?"

"Did you follow me around just to pick on me?" she asked, eyes turning to slits. "I don't have time for this Malfoy, I want to rest before I have to spend tonight doing _patrols_ with you."

"Granger-"

"Couldn't you just harp on me when we get back to our rooms?" she continued, turning to move up the stairs. She barely made it two steps before gasping, half tripping and half falling on the next step. Her body fell, a low scream catching in her throat when she fell. Her arm barely caught on the next step, her side smacking into the stair as she lost her footing.

Malfoy's eyebrows shot up at her stumbling, unsure why the blasted girl would make so much noise over a short fall. He opened his mouth to retort, but the words died in his mouth as he watched something red blossoming out over her chest, the thinner material of her shirt not hiding the sudden dampness.

Was it just him, or was she holding her head while something dripped down too?

Granger gasped, her right hand pressed over the space above her temple while the other moved to her chest, pressing over the material. The liquid underneath immediately spread, seeping through the top to stain her hand.

She didn't have to turn her palm towards him. He already knew what he was looking at.

"Bloody hell, Granger…"

 **A/n:** So, typically when I am actually in the swing of writing I don't like to let such a long period of time pass between chapter updates. However, I was on the fence about what I wanted to do with this story. I think I will continue, but I really need my writing mojo to kick in to help motivate the chapter updates.

Let me know what you think about the development. It will pick up speed after this chapter, and I haven't decided how dark to delve into Blaise's character. We will explore that as the story goes.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione couldn't look at him.

She could feel the pain beginning to dance over her limbs, the blood rising up across her chest and in her head. She had hoped she would have time to apply bandages and a concealment spell before the pain took over. She hadn't even made it to the room. Glancing around wildly, she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn't just lie there on the stairs bleeding.

"What the fuck Granger?" he asked again, drawing her attention. She was shaking, the pain increasing. He was half glaring at her, half staring like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. She felt a stab in her hand, and looked down in time to see a wound open there and begin bleeding.

She thought his eyes would fall out of his head.

"Don't… ask," she gasped, holding her head as she struggled to her feet. They were still pretty far from their common room, but that didn't matter. Luck was on her side if no one had happened by yet, but she didn't trust that to last long. She swayed as she regained her footing, noting that he hadn't moved a muscle yet. "I – I have to go."

She turned and bit back a scream when his hand grasped her arm, a cut breaking the surface there. He recoiled, starting at his hand instead of her like he couldn't believe it. She could see the disgust in his eyes.

"What the fuck is going on?" he snapped, raising his eyes to hers. "Why are you bleeding?"

Hermione shook her head, feeling the start of a massive headache. She very much remembered the gash _he'd_ inflicted to the back of her head that almost killed her. "Can't talk, Malfoy."

"Are you _kidding_ me? What is this, some joke? You're going to tell me what the hell is going on, _now_."

She whirled around, spying him still in the same place as before. Her head was spinning, but she forced down the nausea before it got the best of her. She couldn't allow someone else to see her weak. His eyes were livid, dark and brooding as he waited for an answer. "Malfoy-"

"You're not getting out of this, Granger. Give me an explanation, now. Or I'll be forced to tell someone." His eyes narrowed, accessing her. "I bet Potter would see red if he heard about this. I'm guessing from your terror that you haven't actually told anyone, otherwise they would be here now."

She was beginning to sweat, the effort it took to push back the pain outweighing her determination to argue with him. But she couldn't allow him to go off and tell her friends.

Zabini would actually kill her for that.

"Malfoy," she rasped, her support hand moving away from the wall to press over her chest where blood was dripping down, "not here. Merlin, not here."

"That mean you're gonna spill?"

She barely managed to nod, seeing spots. It hurt to keep her focus on the blond, his figure fading in and out. They still had three flights of stairs to get up before she could collapse, and if he argued any longer she'd probably just pass out right there.

The wounds had to be treated first before sleeping or she chanced bleeding out.

"If you let me go to the bloody room… I-I'll tell."

Not really of course. Zabini would skin her if he found out.

The Slytherin accessed her again, trying to decide if her answer was genuine or not. She looked half dead standing there, hardly supporting herself against the wall. How she planned on making it through the halls looking like that he had no damn idea.

But now he was curious. He wanted to know what exactly he was seeing, and more importantly how it happened.

"Fine," he agreed, walking to meet her. She flinched as he unbuttoned his cloak, throwing it over her as he passed. "You better cover up or someone's going to think I did that."

The fabric enveloped her, heavier than she imagined it could be against the cuts along her skin. It was much too long, but she didn't care. It covered the blood, and that's what mattered.

She wasn't going to try to figure out why he would _give_ it to her.

Her steps faltered as she climbed the steps behind him, her breathing labored. He stopped twice before they reached the third flight, knitting his brows together as he watched her barely move along to catch up.

"You sure I shouldn't bring you to the hospital wing?"

"No!" she screamed, eyes widening. He looked just as startled by her outburst. "No… no I-I'm fine. I can fix it."

He didn't look convinced, following beside her to up the last flight. She was going painfully slow, and wasn't quite sure she'd make it back to the dorm without passing out.

At least she could hope Malfoy wouldn't totally abandon her there in the halls. If he did, and Zabini found her… she shuddered at the thought.

When they made it to their floor she had to stop, sinking down into the stone. He hadn't offered to help her, not that she thought he would. The fact that he gave her his cloak to hide the marks was surprising enough. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming pain and nausea as she sat on the floor.

"This is ridiculous," he sighed, his voice closer than before. She gasped when his cloak was suddenly ripped back, revealing the bloody skin underneath. "Vulnera Sanentur."

Hermione's heart dropped. He couldn't be trying to heal her, that was absurd. Besides, it wouldn't work.

"What kind of bullshit is that?" he asked when nothing happened. "Granger, what kind of shit did you get yourself into?"

She cracked one eye open, surprised to find him kneeling down beside her, the edge of his ruined cloak still held fast in his hand. His eyes were alive with anger, but she couldn't mistake that for concern. Maybe he was angry this was taking so long, the fact that she'd ruined his cloak.

She knew Malfoy didn't know how to feel bad for anyone.

"Answer me," he snapped, not willing to take her silence. "What kind of wounds don't heal with magic?"

"I don't know," she replied, her voice quiet. He dropped the cloak, his expression becoming unreadable at her answer. "I-I'm still trying to figure it out."

He stood, staring down at her. She wondered when he would come to his senses and leave her there. Obviously he was drunk, or perhaps he suffered a head wound of his own. The Malfoy she knew would be kicking her by now, enjoying her pain. He wouldn't be walking beside her, almost _helping_.

"Got some sort of remedy in the room for that?" he continued, arching one eyebrow. She shook her head, ignoring his groan. "Why the hell did this have to happen to me today?"

She thought he was going to leave her to her own torture, but he surprised her again by drawing his wand and casting a strength spell on her. She blinked, surprised he would bother.

"Now get up off the damn floor. You owe me an explanation, and something tells me you're not going to say anything while sitting there. In fact, why didn't you cast a spell yourself?"

Hermione's lips pulled up at the corners, struggling to her feet. He thought the solutions to this problem were as black and white as that. "I-I don't bother wasting the energy. I need strength to move. I don't want to use it on a spell that only lasts a few m-minutes."

He frowned. "If you get up we'll be there in a few minutes!"

She sighed, deciding his moment of pity was over. Moving forward she took her steps carefully, ignoring his scowl as she continued to move slow. It didn't matter if he gave her ten strength spells, it wouldn't erase the pain she was in nor the blood dripping off her body. She wasn't even sure if she was managing to keep it off the floor.

By the time they made it to the common room she was ready to collapse again. Instead she let Malfoy push the door open, ignoring his stern expression as she bolted past, using the last of her strength to enter her bedroom and crash into the bathroom.

At least she was on tile now. She needed to close the doors and then she could be alone to bandage herself up. Malfoy's watchful eyes were enough to drive her mad.

He didn't seem to pity her, which was a bonus. But the way he watched her still made her stomach churn, like he thought she'd break into pieces at any moment. She couldn't stand him, or anyone else, seeing her so defeated.

"You gotta move faster if you want to lock the doors," he said, startling her. She was so excited to lay down and be in pain alone she hadn't closed or locked the doors yet. She was simply too tired. "You going to tell me what's going on now?"

She shook her head, struggling to sit up. Using her remaining strength to focus on the tile, she realized it was smeared with red. Malfoy didn't seem to miss this either, and she could hear his sharp intake of breath.

"Bandages… first," she managed, reaching towards the drawers. He watched as though in a trance as she withdrew the muggle supplies, her eyes narrowing as he continued to remain where he was. "Leave."

"Why?"

She indicated to the wrap in her shaking hands, hoping he would get the picture. "I have to cover my wounds."

"You're going to manage to do that while you bleed to death?" he asked, moving further into the bathroom. She flinched again when he reached out and snatched the supplies, the action not going unnoticed. "Bloody hell, I'm not going to hurt you. Looks like someone's doing plenty of that."

Ignoring his jab, she tried to take the item back. "No. I'm fine. I do it enough."

Malfoy arched an eyebrow, moving just out of her reach as he studied her. "What does that mean?"

" _Malfoy_ , I need to stop the bleeding now or… or I'll pass out."

"You're pretty much out as it is, Granger. You're not going to get through the one on your chest, much less anything else. And you still owe me an answer."

She shook her head, feeling the strength spell ending. She'd be out of luck in a minute if he didn't let her handle this. She knew how to stop the bleeding, as best she could. "I-I can do it myself."

He scoffed, clearly not believing her. However, he did toss back her bandages, fixing her with a look she couldn't read. "I'll give you ten minutes, leave the damn door open. If you don't come out by then I'm going to assume you passed out from blood loss and are close to death."

She recoiled at his harsh tone, tearing her eyes from his. What right did he have to give her a time limit? This was a delicate process making sure she actually stopped the bleeding well enough. As promised, he turned and left the doorway to his side of the bathroom, leaving it wide open.

"Don't shut the door or I'll have a hard time hearing when you fall over!"

She gaped, unable to believe him despite the pain. She could do this herself, help from the ferret be damned!

* * *

Draco was pacing.

He couldn't sit still or he would lose it. People just didn't start _bleeding_ out of nowhere while walking. That didn't make sense. Yet Granger did it, and tried to play it off like it was a normal occurrence.

For all he knew it was.

He glanced down at his hand again, the one he'd been watching most of the walk up here. He'd been watching the Gryffindor too, wondering if she'd die on the journey. He'd probably get blamed if that happened.

Still, he couldn't figure out what was going on. The blood on his hand convinced him this was real, not some sort of strange illusion he was seeing. Granger's pain was real, and so was her fear and the horrid wounds covering her body.

He'd thrown his cloak over her because he couldn't stand looking at all the gashes. It was unsettling, and reminded him too much of war and bloodshed. At least with the cloak she was covered and he didn't have to look at her battered body.

But the _blood_. He could smell it all the way up the stairs. If they encountered anyone on the walk surely they would've known she was hurt. The smell was so strong he nearly gagged on it.

How the hell did she deal with something like that? He clenched his hands, glancing at the clock. Eight minutes downs. He gave her ten, and so far he hadn't heard a thud. Maybe she'd actually get the wounds covered up.

He scowled at his own optimism. It would take an hour at least to bandage them, and if magic wasn't working…

Draco paused, glancing at his wand on the table. Why didn't magic have any effect? Some of the gashes he'd seen looked large, but the spell should've taken care of them, or at least done _something_. Instead it was like he hadn't drawn his wand at all.

What kind of dark magic caused that? He groaned, reaching towards the drink he'd poured, taking a large swig. It burned going down, but he wanted it to. His mind was on overload.

He was certain a dark wizard somehow caused this. No muggle could manage such a feat, and a light magic user wouldn't dream of doing something so horrible. Yet Draco wasn't familiar with any sort of spell like this, and he was certain if it was a torture technique Voldemort would've enforced it. So where did the magic come from?

And more importantly, why the hell was Granger suffering from it? Yeah she was annoying but he didn't know if bleeding to death was really something she deserved.

Glancing up again, he realized ten minutes had passed and no sign of the girl as of yet. He didn't care if he was being pushy, he couldn't handle seeing that much blood on someone and having them brush it off as though it was nothing. This was more than unusual, it was downright creepy.

And he was going to get to the bottom of it. It wasn't like she could avoid him. They were now sharing patrols tonight. If she refused to tell him now he'd just get it out of her while they walked around the castle.

He frowned. If she _could_ walk around the castle.

"Granger?" he called, walking back into his room. There was no use using the door leading from her room when he had his own, and since this door stemmed from his bedroom he had more control over it than she did.

"I'm not finished yet," she called back, the door still open. He assumed that with everything else she had to do, she simply gave up on shutting the wood. Those wounds needed all her attention.

"Doesn't matter," Draco replied, turning into the bathroom. He stopped dead in his tracks, eyeing the girl as though her head had popped off. Maybe it had.

She wasn't wearing a top now, and didn't seem concerned about it. The bandages she'd applied covered what they needed to, but he was shocked she felt comfortable enough that she could stand there like that with him. Or perhaps she didn't care.

He noted she was still wearing her bottoms, which was somewhat a relief. He'd assume she'd gone off the deep end if she truly was standing there naked. He could see dark patches on her legs where he guessed blood was leaking, but he couldn't be sure. Her attention was on the back of her head at the moment, pressing hard against a spot that was dripping blood down her neck.

That looked familiar. Maybe that's where the blood came from yesterday.

"Your arms are still bleeding," he said, crinkling his nose at the smell. For looking so very beaten she was doing okay, standing up straighter than before as she applied bandages. He was used to bandages only after a spell was applied, never finding them all that handy. She appeared to be using them as the main way to close the wounds.

"I'm more worried about my head," she replied, continuing to press the cloth against the base of her skull. She was blushing now, something he was surprised she could do with all that blood. She fidgeted, her other arm moving to wrap around herself. Apparently she was paying attention to her lack of clothing again. "You can leave me alone now. I know how to fix this. You don't need to watch me."

"I'm not," Draco grumbled, narrowing his eyes. "No spell is going to close that? What about a mending spell? The bandages aren't going to close the wounds."

"Mending spells don't do much good," Granger continued, staring down at the sink. "The stitches don't last long, I need bandages anyway."

He nodded, stepping further into the bathroom. She didn't flinch this time but tensed, the hand on the back of her head tightening. It didn't look like she was all that successful with her efforts, blood still coming in little lines. He didn't understand how she could bleed so much and not be dead already.

 _I've seen more than enough blood to last one lifetime._

Without thinking he stepped forward, pressing one hand over the back of hers. She jerked around, her fingers remaining tight over the gash in her head. "What are you doing?"

"You're not pressing hard enough," he snapped, ignoring how she winced. "Seriously, how do you hide a wound like that during the day? I know you have a rat's nest for hair, but this is extreme."

She frowned, narrowing her eyes up at him. "Did you forget already that they appeared out of nowhere?"

"No, I'm just choosing to ignore it." He pressed harder, shoving her hand away. "This is never going to work. You can't have an open head wound for this long. I'm using a mending spell. At least it'll stop bleeding."

She didn't argue, looking down as he cast the spell. Finally the blood stopped and he pulled his hand away, scowling at the blood soaking his fingers. Her neck was read, and she'd probably be better off taking a bath than trying to clean with a towel.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked quietly, pressing her hands into the counter.

"Why the hell are you letting this happen?" he argued, turning on the sink. He let the blood wash off his fingers, scrubbing off the dried line from earlier. "How did you end up bleeding out like that?"

"Why are you so curious?" she countered, pressing on a line on her arm. "If you don't mind I have to get the rest covered and closed. I've lost enough blood tonight. If you expect me to go on patrols, I need to finish this up."

His eyebrows shot up, surprised she still planned on going. With the way she looked he assumed he'd pass out soon enough, head girl duties be damned. The fact that she was still determined set him on edge. Apparently, this wasn't new.

That set him on edge more than before.

When he didn't immediately turn and leave the room she frowned, picking her hands up off the counter to push him. The effect was weak at best, and he hardly budged. The wounds across her body were sapping the energy right out of her, and he was surprised she didn't fall when she lost her grip on the counter.

"Let me finish," she snapped, the sound pathetically small. He'd never seen her so unkept and… helpless throughout their years at school. The fact that she was still fighting him about things had his mind reeling. If he was this beaten he'd probably lay down and let someone else handle it.

Not Granger. She appeared more determined than ever to do this alone. He relented, turning on his heel before he thought better of it. "Fine, have it your way. You should be grateful someone wants to help when you're in such a sorry state. It doesn't matter though, you have to spend all night with me. I'll get you to tell me one way or another."

* * *

Draco didn't think she'd survive to do patrols. She proved him wrong, showing up in the common room ten minutes before their rounds began covered from head to toe. She was standing better than before, her skin still pretty pale compared to normal. She had her arms and legs covered, the sleeves reaching almost to her fingertips. In her arms was a bundle of black cloth.

"I doubt you want this anymore," she said, blushing as she indicated to the cloak he'd given her. "I can wash it, but I think it's permanently stained. Sorry about that."

He arched an eyebrow, glancing at the cloak. "I don't know why you're apologizing, I knew your blood would stain it. If I was concerned about that I wouldn't have thrown it on you." He waved a hand, picking up his drink again. He still hadn't managed to finish the one he poured earlier. "Throw it away. I have plenty."

Granger looked surprised that he didn't seem to care, turning slowly to toss the cloak into the trash. He studied her as she walked, noting that she still limped a little and her shoulders were drawn together.

If he wasn't paying so much attention, he might not notice she was in pain. But he knew there was no way she was all better after bleeding for at least an hour. He couldn't see the gash in the back of her head anymore; she'd done a good job covering that up with her hair.

Still, he knew it was all for show.

"Well at least you have an excuse to wear a lot of red," he snapped, watching her eyes widen as she spun around. "At least if you start bleeding no one can tell the difference, right?"

She frowned, pressing a hand over her chest. The gash that was there earlier didn't appear to be bleeding through her bandages yet. She took a deep breath, panic flooding into her eyes at his words.

"Granger?" he asked, watching her take a step away from him. He could see the fear overtaking her, though he didn't understand what he'd said to cause such a fuss. He was trying to probe her, not make her cry.

She shook her head, her other hand fisted so tightly into the bottom of her shirt he thought she might tear it. "Sorry – nothing, it's nothing." She faintly smiled at him, looking like she was afraid to disagree. "You're right… no one can see the blood."

Something was definitely wrong with her.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" he asked, studying her. "It's not like you can pretend nothing happened, I already saw the marks."

"I don't think so," she replied, eyes finally meeting his. She laughed, but it came out sounding choked. "You wouldn't believe me anyway."

"Well, I didn't think someone could survive bleeding out, but you proved me wrong there too," he argued. "Now, stop ignoring my question. What the hell happened?"

She bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. Her eyes darted around, looking anywhere but him. They landed on the clock, and she jumped into action, moving a little quicker towards the door. "We're going to be late."

"Granger-"

"Come on Malfoy, don't dally."

He scowled, downing the remainder of his drink before following her out. She was going to do everything in her power to avoid telling him, and that just wouldn't do. He would not let her get away without explaining what he was seeing. He didn't know why she was so hesitant, and he didn't care. He'd get the truth out one way or another.

Hermione focused on the walls as they walked, hoping Malfoy would drop his interrogation. She couldn't possibly tell him the truth, not with Zabini's threats hanging over her head constantly. They were friends for Merlin's sake! Malfoy would spill, and Zabini would find a way to end her life sooner than later.

She shuddered just thinking about him.

The blond was on another rampage again, demanding she tell him what was going on. She couldn't really focus on him though, thinking back to what he'd said before about the color of her blouse.

 _At least if you start bleeding no one can tell the difference_.

He sounded so much like Zabini it made her skin crawl.

" _At least you're a Gryffindor," he seethed, shaking her shoulders so hard her head banged into the ground several times. She couldn't recall what she'd said to upset him so much. "No one will notice you bleeding! Red, the Gryffindor's all wear red! You'll wear red to, do to your bones."_

"Granger?"

She jumped, startled out of her memories. She'd been thinking about him again, like she so often did when her thoughts started running away. Glancing Malfoy she noticed he was studying her, and couldn't fathom why until she lifted her arms up to hug herself.

She was shaking, pretty bad too.

"Why are you afraid?" he asked, watching her edge further away from him. "Hell, I didn't do anything to you."

 _No, but sometimes you act like him._

"I know," she replied, following him through the empty halls. It was getting late, and they hadn't encountered anyone in the last hour. Patrols would probably be pretty boring tonight. "I didn't say you did."

"No, actually you haven't said anything," he huffed, stopping in his tracks. "I got you up to the common room and I kept you from bleeding all over the damn hall. The least you could do is tell me where those gashes came from."

"I can't," she said quietly, stopping too. Her muscles were screaming, everything sore from the days events. Usually she managed her time better, but today with Hogsmeade everything got messed up. "Really Malfoy, I'm being serious. I can't tell you."

"So am I," he snapped. "If you don't tell me I'll tell Potter and let him handle it. I'm betting he'll make a bigger deal out of it than I am."

She flinched, imaging the problems she would encounter if more people than just Malfoy knew. Zabini would be angry that she allowed anyone to find out, but maybe Malfoy wasn't so bad. Maybe he'd think Malfoy would side with him.

She wasn't so sure he would.

"I can't," she said again, rubbing her shoulder. It was sore, one of the larger gashes he'd inflicted. "Trust me Malfoy, I can't say a word."

"Why, someone going to kill you if you do?"

Hermione gasped, quickly covering up her mouth. He arched an eyebrow crossing his arms at her reaction.

"Is it Blaise?"

She just about fell over, surprised he came to the conclusion so easily. She thought she was doing a great job hiding everything, but if Malfoy could figure her out so easily others probably had to. "H-how did you…"

"You recall we're friends right?" he snapped. "He's had a strange amount of interest in you're the past couple weeks. I don't know why. But since it's unusual, I'm just taking a stab in the dark." He narrowed his eyes, his expression darkening. "Are you telling me _Blaise_ did this?"

"Technically, I didn't tell you anything," she reasoned, the anxiety inside her building. How did he guess? If he guessed, would Zabini still hold her accountable for giving away their secret. "You can't say anything-"

His eyes flashed, hand snapping out to grab her wrist. She was surprised he grabbed an area that didn't have a cut at the moment. "Why the fuck would he be beating you?"

"He's not-"

"The hell he isn't," Malfoy seethed, stepping closer. Her heart rate increased, panic beginning to set in. He was clearly angry, the fire in his eyes surprising. Leaning in, his glare intensified. "Tell me the truth, what is going on?"

"I-"

Cutting herself off, she stopped and looked around. Malfoy did too, tilting his head as he listened. They had both noticed the sound, the quiet in the hallway interrupted only by the sound of footsteps.

And they were nearby.

Hermione felt her heart stop as he rounded the corner, hands stuffed down into his pockets. She'd known that there was a possibility that he might come looking for her while out on patrols, which was part of the reason she was so specific about who she partnered with. Malfoy dropped her arm, ignoring her when she tried to push him out of the way, his gaze fixated on the confused figure walking up the hallway.

"What the hell, Blaise?"

 **A/n:** So, more drama is coming up. With Draco knowing, the story will definitely shift. Please favorite, follow, and review! Thanks to all of you.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione felt her heart stop for a moment, staring at the approaching man with wide eyes. Malfoy's outburst did nothing to deter him, the smirk on his face spreading the closer he got.

"Is that really the way to greet a friend?" he asked, the expression on his face never wavering. "Didn't think I'd see you here, mate."

"Neither did I," the blonde grunted, narrowing his eyes. "Come back for your pepper-up potion?"

Zabini smirked, eyes briefly skating over her form. She was thankful she'd gotten to clean herself up before coming out tonight. He would know immediately if she was still suffering, and he had a habit of playing that up. Suppressing a shudder, she forced herself to meet his eyes.

Blaise didn't usually bother her on patrols, especially after the one and only time he found her alone in the hallways. Usually she patrolled with the same person who understood that she had no desire to wander around alone. The Ravenclaw never seemed to mind, filling up their time with chatter about books. She enjoyed his company.

Forcing the memory away, she tried to think about something else. She was just lucky her partner that night never found her after her screams.

She didn't like that he'd come looking for her. They were nowhere near either of the dorms, so this didn't happen by accident. The brief look of surprise on his face told her he didn't think Malfoy would be there with her.

Well, at least she one-upped him this time.

"I was looking for you," he replied smoothly, eyes finally shifting away from her. "How can you miss out on tonight for some fucking patrols? We bought-"

"It doesn't matter," Malfoy cut in, his brows creasing. "I got swindled into this. You may as well go back; I'll be at this all night."

Blaise looked unconvinced, looking between the pair. "I couldn't possibly leave you with the likes of _her_."

"I seriously doubt Granger's going to give me any trouble," he replied coolly, loosely crossing his arms. "After what you've done to her, I don't imagine she can cause any problems."

Hermione flinched, spinning around to glare at him. He didn't know what he was talking about! He barely understood the marks on her body, yet here he was just _announcing_ to Blaise that he knew something was wrong.

Her heart sped up, unable to look away from his relaxed expression. He had no idea the dangerous path he was treading, especially with Zabini's random mood swings and thirst for blood. Friend or not, she had no doubt that Zabini would strike out if he felt like someone was threatening him.

After all, he struck out at her constantly and she couldn't hadn't actually done anything. What was wrong with Malfoy?

Blaise, apparently undeterred by Malfoy's realization, kept his voice even when he spoke again. "Oh, that. Did you finally notice? I was starting to wonder if you even remembered you had a dormmate."

Surprised, she glanced his way. He looked so calm, even _giddy_. Didn't he threaten to end her life if someone found out? Why would he look so damn excited to have Malfoy in on it? She clenched her hands together, ignoring the dull ache rising in her body. If she needed to, she had to be ready to run, pain or not.

"It's not like she was sharing those marks with me," Malfoy replied, sounding as confused as she felt. "How did you even manage to do cause that much harm?"

Hermione tensed, wondering why he cared. Not even an hour ago he was almost concerned with the bleeding lines on her body, and now he wanted to know how Zabini got them to remain there? Who's side was Malfoy on?

Zabini smirked, drawing his wand. Malfoy didn't tense up, watching the other man carefully as he eyed the Gryffindor. "My own invention, Draco. I had to find a way to make the wounds last, which was incredibly difficult, let me tell you. But I can show-"

"I really don't want a demonstration," he interrupted, holding up one hand. "And I don't have any need to know the details, it was more rhetorical than anything. I really just want to know why you're abusing her."

"I'm not abusing on her," Zabini scoffed, eyes focusing on her again. "Least, I don't have a need to anymore. The magic does all of that for me, right Mudblood?"

She reached for her wand, ignoring the shaking of her hands. She didn't know if she should be more afraid that Malfoy was around, or grateful. So far she couldn't really say he was helping the situation, but at least Zabini was minding his distance now. He hadn't even struck her.

Trying to keep herself in check, she glanced between the two. Malfoy's expression gave nothing away, and she couldn't tell if he was disgusted by Zabini's words or interested in them.

It was so familiar, she almost wanted to be sick.

" _Yaxley, make sure no one comes upstairs."_

 _The elder Death Eater snarled as the pair passed by, Zabini dragging her by her hair. Bellatrix was bored of her, and that must've left her up for grabs. He hadn't let up on his backbreaking pace, dragging her painfully up the stairs far too quick, her feet unable to find purchase on the smooth stone floors._

" _Why the fuck would I do that?" he snapped, eyeing the girl as they passed. Zabini stopped dragging her, throwing her into the nearest room. She skidded on the ground, random debris left around the space like someone came in and recently tore the place up. Hermione coughed, attempting to get her bearings as she looked around the room. She would not be beaten so easily._

 _Zabini paused at the door, unconcerned with whatever Hermione was doing. He sure was cocky, thinking he had such a great advantage now that her wand was gone. "If you keep the others out, I'll let you have a go when I'm finished with her."_

 _She momentarily paused, head whipping up to look at the door. A smirk split across Yaxley's face, eyeing her hungrily as he agreed to Zabini's request. Knowing he had the man's full attention the Italian nodded, stepping through the threshold to slam the door closed. In the shadows of the room he smirked, drawing his wand from his coat._

" _We're going to have some fun, aren't we Granger? When I'm finished with you, you'll wish I'd just killed your sorry arse."_

She blinked, focusing on the present again when she noticed Malfoy shifting beside her, somewhat obscuring her from Zabini's view. The man frowned, perplexed by his longtime friends behavior.

"Why are you hurting her?" he asked again, sounding more curious than angry. Honestly Hermione might be curious about that too if she hadn't had the answer screamed and imbedded into her brain so many times.

"Why not?" Zabini countered, shifting so he could focus on her once more. "Really Draco, you're losing your touch."

She didn't have time to react, her eyes widening when Blaise suddenly struck her with his magic, sending her flying back into the wall. She couldn't help the scream that ripped out of her throat as the cuts on her back connected with the stone, shooting pain throughout her body.

She crumbled into the floor, unable to catch herself on her hands. Her face hit the stone but she didn't really notice, not with the waves of pain dancing up and down her spine. Attempting to take deep breaths she tried to focus on the pair in front of her, vision a little blurry as she stared.

Her fingers were resting in something, was that blood?

She didn't remember him saying a word, but that didn't make sense. Even with her brain a little muddled, she knew she'd recall if he cried out a spell.

Was this wordless magic? It wasn't nearly as advanced as wandless, but complex magic nonetheless. If he was practicing the art then she had even more of a reason to be scared. What was she supposed to do if she didn't even know when he was going to strike her with a spell?

Blinking, she tried to focus once more, noticing that the pair seemed to be in the middle of a fight.

"-fuck! You can't just go around torturing people Blaise. What the fucks gotten into you?"

" _Me_? How dare you try to defend that bitch! She's a Mudblood Draco, or have you so quickly forgotten? We can't just let them go around thinking we're equals."

"So are you torturing anyone you want in the school then?" he asked, angling his wand towards his darker counterpart. She was surprised to see Malfoy of all people trying to defend her. "Or is this special treatment for Granger?"

"I can't torture everyone," Zabini scoffed, staring at his friend like he was absurd. "Just her, for now. I figured breaking the poster-child for Mudblood's everywhere would send out my message loud and clear."

"What message?"

Grinning, Hermione noticed his teeth were red. If she narrowed her eyes more she could also see the beginning of a bruise on his cheek. Did Malfoy hit him.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about Draco, don't play stupid. You haven't so quickly forgotten everything we worked for."

" _I'm_ not working for anything," he argued, stepping closer. If she focused, she could tell that he was blocking her once more. Whether he was doing that on purpose or not she couldn't fathom. "And you shouldn't be either. The war is done Blaise, don't go stirring up another one. _Mudblood's_ aren't in the same position they once more. Like it or not, blood status is unimportant to the majority of the population these days."

"If people like you weren't busy standing by letting these insolent nuances believe they are worth something, we wouldn't have this problem," Zabini replied, shooting daggers at his friend. His eyes flinted back to Hermione for a moment, spurring her into action. She couldn't just lie there and look helpless or he'd believe he was winning.

She had to get up off the floor.

Malfoy said something in return that she missed, pushing up onto her hands. Her body screamed in protest, and she could feel the wounds on her back and arms openly bleeding. Blocking out the pain she forced herself against the wall, biting back a cry.

Unable to focus on whatever the two Slytherin's were discussing, she managed to stand up. Her body was fighting the action, all of her efforts to help herself earlier ruined by one impact with a wall.

She felt stupid, but Zabini shot waves of fear through her that even Voldemort himself couldn't. At least no-nose had an end goal, but the man before her seemed to want nothing more than pain and chaos. She wasn't certain he would stop at simply fighting the muggleborns; if push came to shove, he'd probably torture anyone for the thrill of it.

How do you even reason with someone like that?

Hermione screamed into the darkened corridor when she felt someone touch her arm, the hand retracting half a second later. With her hands pressed into the wall she'd hit, she couldn't see which of the two men approached her, but now she had a pretty good idea.

Looking over her shoulder, she felt her nerves calm down just a hair. "Malfoy?"

"You're bleeding again," he grunted, eyes giving her a once over. She didn't need him to tell her that, she could see the puddle of blood in the dim light of the wand she dropped. "Fucking hell, tonight couldn't possibly get any worse."

Despite herself she smiled a little, thankful that given his history Malfoy didn't join in to kill her. He was surprisingly helpful, even if he was keeping his distance. His hands were stuffed down into his pockets, eyeing her as though he wasn't sure what to do next.

They still had to finish patrols, and she wasn't certain she would last that long. The numbing she felt before was gone, replaced by pain once more. Walking all this way was difficult to begin with, but they still had three floors to cover and at least an hour of wandering. She'd sit down and nap before completing all that.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. He looked confused by what she said, eyebrows rising as he watched her. "I wasn't trying to involve anyone."

"Blaise involved me more than you did," he replied, shifting around in front of her. "You should be involving people, make a big deal out of it. He'll be expelled and likely put into Azkaban for his behavior."

"It's not that simple. Even if he is imprisoned, it won't make a difference for the wounds. He doesn't have to be near for them to show. It just kind of happens."

Malfoy frowned, stepping closer to her again. She didn't need to pull back this time, not after he'd helped defend her. She didn't understand his reasoning, but she certainly wouldn't question it.

There were bits of the conversation she didn't understand, like when Zabini suddenly had red teeth from being hit. Instead of questioning him she straightened herself out, trying to force back the pain.

"You have to tell someone Granger, that's not natural."

"No," she agreed, nodding stiffly, "it's not. I can't tell anyone Malfoy, he'll kill me."

"Well, he didn't kill you when he found out I knew."

"He wanted you to know," she sighed, dropping her eyes again. She glanced down at her wand, wishing she had the energy to bring it back to her. With everything going on, even simple summoning spells sapped her energy. "He was ecstatic that you noticed what he's been doing."

Apparently Malfoy was watching her closely, as he knelt down to retrieve her wand from the floor, handing it back to her. She let the wand slip into her grasp, wondering when she became so weak that she needed someone to hand back her most precious item.

How did she let this happen? Zabini was terrifying, not debilitating. He knew she was afraid of him and used it to his advantage. So long as he believed he could control her through torture and memories he'd always have the upper hand.

For crying out loud, she was being saved by Malfoy because he was the only person who knew her condition. If her friends knew, things would be different…

But would it be better or worse that way?

"Granger," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "Cut out early tonight. Most people avoid walking around late when you have patrols anyways, so really no one should be wandering around. Let's just go back; it's a waste of time."

"But-"

"Besides," he continued, cutting her off, "its not like you can wander around bleeding. If we found anyone they would just panic, and then your little secret would be found out."

She relented, seeing the reasoning behind his words. She didn't like them, she didn't even want to listen to them, but she would. He was right, as much as she wanted to disagree. She wouldn't be able to repair the damage out here.

"And when we get back," Malfoy continued, grasping her arm lightly as he magicked away the blood, "you can tell me what the hell is really going on."

* * *

Draco sat in the common room, staring at the empty bottle before him. In the time it was taking Granger to shower he'd finished his drink from earlier and the rest of the bottle, his mind a whirlwind. He was glad she was taking her time; he didn't know what to say to her yet.

Seeing Blaise was something else. He knew something was off when the git wanted to leave early from Hogsmeade, and as soon as Granger started _literally_ spilling her guts he had a sickening feeling Blaise was at fault. Why else would she always get so tense when he was in the dorm, or seemingly panic when he approached.

His actions tonight just confirmed his suspicions. Blaise had it out for her, although he couldn't fathom why. Sure, she was a Mudblood, but the word meant so little these days he wasn't convinced that was all it was. The war caused too many casualties, and people would rather begrudgingly accept each other than cause more bloodshed.

Everyone apparently, except Blaise. He was holding onto his prejudice, something even Draco hadn't managed to do. After watching his home be literally destroyed and countless lives lost within its walls he'd had a change of heart. He couldn't change his past, but he didn't plan on pushing for a future that would end the same way.

He just didn't get the connection between Blaise and Granger. She was almost exclusively tied to her friends all hours of the day except when she was hiding in her room. When would the bloke have time to not only strike fear through her, but unleash a spell of his own design? He'd have to get her away from her friends, which was no small feat. No, Draco didn't believe Blaise cast this spell since the beginning of term a couple weeks ago. There was no logical way it could've happened.

But the only other time they would've encountered each other was during the war at the Manor. From what he understood Blaise was supposed to be in the west wing when the army broke in, so he shouldn't have been anywhere near Granger.

Then again, Blaise was questionable during that entire adventure. He was under interrogation longer than anyone else in their year, and his whereabouts were unknown for a large portion of the day leading to the fight. Maybe he did sneak off and find Granger.

No, he didn't think that made total sense either. Wasn't she with Bellatrix at the time?

Sighing, Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. The event timelines didn't add up, and without some insight from one of them he wasn't sure he could put the pieces together. Scowling he thought back to his argument earlier with Blaise, the fire in his eyes stronger than any he'd ever seen.

" _Why not?" Zabini countered, shifting so he could focus on her once more. "Really Draco, you're losing your touch."_

 _Draco watched his friend strike Granger without saying a word, sending her flying back into the wall behind them. She screamed when she connected with the stone, and he couldn't say he exactly blamed her. After seeing the wounds decorating her body, he knew she was in pain before this happened._

 _He wouldn't run to help her, even if he was concerned about her wounds opening up. After knowing Blaise for years, he was certain the prick would find some sort of twisted glee if he thought Draco was going to protect her._

 _Honestly, he didn't know if he was protecting her or not. He had shifted to block her from Blaise's view, but that didn't work out when he struck her anyway. He just didn't want to react and really get Blaise's blood boiling._

 _He'd seen how Blaise reacted when challenged. Blowing up this floor of the school didn't seem like a great idea, especially with Granger acting so strangely. Starting a fight with Blaise wouldn't get him any answers._

" _You know," he snapped, glaring at his longtime friend, "you're not showing me that you're truly powerful if you just attacked the weakest person in front of you."_

" _You're not my target," Blaise answered, grinning. "She's never going to fight me, not now. I've broken her spirit."_

" _All you've done is curse her," Draco argued, wondering what exactly Blaise meant. He was in the dark about most of what was going on, but he didn't need to let on about that. He didn't seem angry that Draco knew things, so he planned on pushing his luck._

" _She deserves it," he argued, pointing his wand at her again. "Mudbloods, blood traitors, the scum of the earth. They need to know their place."_

" _I don't think you're going to teach anyone to mind their place like this," Draco snapped, shifting a little. Granger appeared to be trying to get back up, at least from the noises she was making. "Don't strike her again Blaise, or I will take you down."_

 _Immediately the Italian's expression soured, something dark shifting into his gaze that Draco had never seen. "Don't think you can threaten me, Draco. I could slaughter the both of you without breaking a sweat. This girl is worth nothing, don't let her get to your head."_

" _Are you insane?" he asked, unable to believe this was the complacent Death Eater he knew months ago. When they got their marks Blaise didn't even seem to want his. Now he was screaming about killing them both without a problem? Blaise rarely fought, and for the first time Draco wondered how much he kept from them. "Killing two people will get you the kiss for sure. They nearly sent you to Azkaban a couple months ago! How can you act like it's not a big deal to be acting this way? Cut the crap, you're not acting like yourself."_

 _Blaise grinned, the expression cutting across his face all too quickly. "How do you know this isn't how I've always been? Maybe I enjoy watching her bleed out."_

 _Draco tried to keep himself in check, but that was the last straw. Blaise was pushing for some sort of reaction out of him, and he couldn't help getting aggravated by his words. "What the fuck! You can't just go around torturing people Blaise. What the fucks gotten into you?"_

 _Blaise's grin widened, glancing behind the blond when Granger whined again. The expression immediately slid off his face, like he didn't want the Gryffindor to see him looking so damn coy. His tone remained the same when he spoke again, but he was starting to drag their topic away from himself. "Me? How dare you try to defend that bitch! She's a Mudblood Draco, or have you so quickly forgotten? We can't just let them go around thinking we're equals."_

He just didn't know how to read Blaise anymore. What was going on inside that warped head of his?

Draco was pulled out of his brooding as a door behind him opened, and he heard Granger enter the common room. She looked pretty rotten as she approached, her skin still pale. At least she didn't seem to be bleeding anymore, but he assumed this would be a short-lived reprieve. She sat down beside him on the sofa, leaving as much space as she could between them.

He forced himself to not roll his eyes, reaching towards the glass he'd set aside earlier. It smelled better than the liquor he'd been drinking, so he hoped it didn't taste too godawful. "Drink this."

She frowned, starting at the glass he presented her. They hadn't talked much since returning to the room, and she didn't have any idea why he'd give her a foggy beverage. "Why?"

"Good lord, Granger. It's not like it's poison. It should help take some of the pain away."

Still frowning, she finally took the glass from him and sipped the contents hesitantly, apparently not finding the drink too displeasing. "What is this?"

He shrugged, sinking back into the sofa. His eyes fell closed, and he rubbed his temples as he tried willing the headache away. "Just something I whipped up. I'm decent at potions, so I figured I might make use of the skill. You haven't tried making a salve for yourself when the cuts come?"

She was quiet for a moment, and he couldn't decide if she was simply thinking or just thrown by the question. "Usually the potions I make don't have any effect. Thanks for trying, but this probably won't work. Nothing magical has."

Scoffing, he opened his eyes again to glare at her. "Well give it some time. You've never had a potion made by me. Trust me, it'll work."

He smirked when she gave in, downing the rest of the potion before she set the cup aside. Clasping her hands in her lap she looked around, worrying her lip as she focused anywhere but in his direction.

"You can't avoid telling me, Granger. I will find out one way or another."

The brunette sighed, finally glaring at him through the corners of her eyes. "I don't know what you want me to say, Malfoy. I don't understand what Zabini's done to me, and I don't want to specifically think back on it." She reached up, subconsciously rubbing her neck, eyes moving away from him again.

"So you have absolutely no idea what happened?" he asked, not believing it. The brightest witch of their age didn't simply ignore clues. She had to have an idea. "You didn't hear him say anything, any sort of spell?"

"Malfoy, do you even know when he attacked me?"

He frowned. "Well, no."

"Or why he would bother?"

"Other than his decision to hate anyone not pureblood?" he asked, looking unimpressed. "Blaise always had a bloodlust, but I don't know why he's taking it out on you."

Granger laughed, seeming to find something funny with his words. "Yeah, I'm not sure either. He found me at the Manor, that's when he cursed me with these cuts. Whatever damage he did that day is what reappears at night. I can almost time exactly when they show up. In the morning, they are gone again but the pain remains, almost like an ache or bruising. I don't know what kind of magic that is."

He felt sick, unaware that Granger met Blaise that day. Maybe this is why no one knew where he was just before the attack; he was busy beating her. He cleared his throat, refusing to drop the uncomfortable topic. He didn't think he'd get her to indulge him again. "So they just start bleeding randomly at night?"

"No, timed. It's almost like there's a timer for when the pain should start. I guess my only saving grace is he doesn't seem able to cause my bones to break like he could when we were at your home."

He flinched. Draco never knew what happened to her at his home. He'd been there when Bellatrix tortured her, but he left the room with his mother when his aunt started screaming that she'd destroy her. There was no way to prepare with Bella, and at the time he felt like a coward for leaving when he couldn't handle it. Watching his aunt's mind work was something else altogether.

But he didn't know Blaise showed up at some point. He'd been far away from there by that point, waiting with his mother for the torture to end. Of course they didn't have to wait long before war started, and they gave in rather quickly. Why fight when they just wanted this to end?

"I didn't know it happened at the Manor," he muttered, keeping his voice low. "I didn't actually know you ever encountered him there. You weren't there long, so I didn't even consider it."

"Most people don't consider what happened just before your home was stormed. Besides, he's done a wonderful job evading the law. Even his interrogations didn't turn up the fact that he nearly killed me. He cast an enchantment on himself before anyone arrived in the room, so no one actually thinks he's the one who tortured me."

Draco scoffed, shaking his head at Blaise's ability to prepare. Of course he'd find a way to cover his arse from every angle. That was the true Slytherin in him.

"Is that why you haven't told your goody-two-shoes friends? Because you think they wouldn't believe you, like the bleeding Ministry didn't?"

"I didn't even mention it to the Ministry," she whispered, looking away from him now. "I didn't think it would do any good, and I definitely didn't want to talk about it. Besides, you heard him yourself. He plans to kill me if I tell anyone."

"I doubt you should believe that. He didn't try to kill you really when he found out I knew."

"But he doesn't mind you knowing," she snapped, "he just hopes you will side with him."

"I don't, Granger. And I won't. There's been enough death and bloodshed, I'm not interested in experiencing anymore. Blaise is well aware of that."

"It won't stop him from doing what he wants."

"No, nothing probably will." He sat up straighter on the sofa, fixing her with his gaze. "If you don't tell someone, he might actually succeed in killing you. It's your word against his Granger, and you have plenty of proof that he's done something. I don't understand why you haven't."

She worried her lip, thinking over his words a moment. Keeping her eyes downcast she replied, "I don't know why I haven't either. Why am I letting him win?"

* * *

 **A/n:** I apologize for the late update, please know I am not abandoning this, I've just got a lot going on and will be starting a new position next week. Let me know what you think of the progression, I'm curious as to your thoughts.

Now that it's May I feel I need to make an update on my stories so everyone knows what's going on. In October I will be getting married, so the wedding planning is well underway now! The closer we get to the big day, unfortunately the slower updates will become for a while but they will still happen, trust me there.

It's crazy to think I can officially tell my readers I'm getting married. When I first started on the site 9 years ago, I was barely old enough to use it and now I'm getting hitched! Thanks to everyone that's ready along, and don't forget to review!


	5. Chapter 5

Once Granger was asleep that night, Draco decided it was time to go walking. He had too many questions swirling around in his mind to sleep anyway, and he intended on paying a certain Slytherin a visit.

After all, talking to Blaise with Granger bleeding on the ground was a bit distracting. He knew the Italian wouldn't tell him everything with her hanging around, and there was definitely more to the story than Blaise let on. Even Granger's shotty explanation didn't fill in all the holes.

As far as he knew, Blaise didn't play a big role during the war, but it was hard to tell with the extreme measures his long term friend took in tormenting one little prisoner. Her position didn't make a damn difference, he thought all the extra effort was wasted. Emotionally she still seemed to suffer from what happened, so the physical damage that lingered seemed a little excessive.

And he intended on finding out why Blaise went to such extremes. He didn't even know the Italian knew such complex magic. He'd never let on that he did before.

Voldemort couldn't have had that much of an influence.

Entering the common room, he was immediately attacked by Astoria, who threw her arms loosely around his neck in what he assumed was supposed to be a hug before nearly toppling over. If they weren't friends he probably would've just let her eat the floor.

"Draco! We've been looking _everywhere_ for you!"

He frowned, knowing that wasn't true as he guided her to the nearest chair and pushed her down on the cushions. She giggled there, wiggling her eyebrows at him for a moment before getting distracted, immediately looking around for a bottle she'd left somewhere else. Shaking his head he moved on, knowing she'd be more than able to find another one soon.

They were all supposed to drink in Hogsmeade, but he should've known the festivities wouldn't stop there. Half the house seemed to be crammed into the common room, lying lazily around on the furniture either already passed out or still holding onto the liquor they were consuming. The whole place would be a disaster come morning.

And he missed out.

Shifting around between his housemates he tried to fight down his disdain. If he wasn't busy chaperoning his dorm mate for fear that Blaise would do something to her he'd be smashed by now, and would probably be smashing _someone_.

It didn't take a lot of effort to locate Blaise in the back of the room, locking lips with Pansy of all people. Draco decided to ignore the fact that his mate was presently smacking on his ex, and rolled his eyes when Pansy adjusted her top as they pulled apart.

Well, they were pretty drunk if the smell seeping off them was an indicator. Rolling his eyes Draco cocked his head to the side, ignoring Pansy in favor of the Italian.

"Blaise."

"Draco," he replied, his voice much more controlled than he expected. Maybe the reek of liquor was primarily Pansy, because from his tone of voice he had a hard time believing Blaise was even buzzed. "I didn't think you'd make it down tonight. Figured you'd be… occupied."

He didn't miss the hostility in his friend's voice, or the odd look Pansy shot his way. Apparently she didn't know anything about Blaise's warped mind either. He needed to error on the side of caution, especially since he didn't really know what Blaise's mind was coming up with.

Besides, if he even feigned interest in whatever warped idea Blaise had going, he could potentially figure out what he was aiming for with this spell.

"I don't have any plans," he replied smoothly, hands slipping down into his pockets. "In fact, I think I was supposed to partake in our drinking escapade tonight."

Blaise smirked, shifting until Pansy got up off his lap. He moved to the far corner, Draco trailing a safe distance behind. So far he hadn't seen Daphne around anywhere, which got the gears in his head spinning. Weren't they supposed to be dating?

He got distracted when Blaise handed him a drink, noting the lid still unopened. Well, at least he wouldn't have to worry about being poisoned. Popping the top he glanced around, noting the few scattered people around the room who were still awake.

"I'm guessing you got the Mudblood all fixed up?" Blaise asked, his tone light even as their topics shifted.

Draco scoffed, fixing his friend with a glare. "No, I believe you worked pretty damn hard to make that impossible. What's the payout Blaise? What are you really getting by watching her suffer?"

A knowing grin danced across Blaise's face, but he didn't respond. "It's really interesting to watch what the effects of a master spell can do to a person. Did you ever get to read study personally under the Dark Lord, Draco?"

Narrowing his eyes, he clenched the bottle in his hand. He hadn't been a favorite of Voldemort's for quite some time leading to his death. "Can't say we were all that close."

"No," Blaise agreed, bobbing his head, "you weren't. Too many fuck ups in a row and he just lost interest in you, no matter who your father is. It's a shame, you could've worked these spells beautifully."

Tapping his tense fingers against the neck of the bottle, Draco tried to figure out what exactly Blaise was playing at. He rarely came to the Manor during the war when Voldemort came by, so unless the pair met in private there was no way he'd have gotten some sort of special treatment snake-face was alive.

He'd always heard rumors of Voldemort searching for a prodigy in case he met his demise, but Draco couldn't see Blaise being that person. He was too distanced in the war, never actually playing a part just dancing around. Half the time when Draco did see the boy he was mouthing off about old Voldy, deeming the majority of his decisions unnecessary and piloted by an emotional grudge towards the boy who lived.

In hindsight, Blaise wasn't totally wrong. Voldemort and all his direct followers weren't cautious enough, believing their location to be both warded and difficult to find since only so many pureblood families knew the location of the manor. In the end, nearly all of them died the night the manor was swept through.

"And Voldemort just handed you the knowledge of these spells?"

Blaise's lip twitched, almost pulling into a half smile before dropping again. "I suppose you could call it that. Of course, the knowledge didn't come without some discipline."

"And I'm sure he was all too willing to dish that out," he scoffed, shaking his head. "He always was a glutton for punishment."

"As we all are," Blaise agreed, smirking. "It's a shame Granger isn't too… perhaps she'd see why we have to punish her."

Narrowing his eyes, Draco assessed the man in front of him once more. Blaise was a wild card for the most part, silent until the last few months. He couldn't fathom what would make the Italian go after Granger of all people, someone he didn't even associate with prior to the war. His reasoning just didn't seem to fit together.

"And why is that?" he asked, popping the bottle open. May as well get a little something out of this if all Blaise planned to do was ramble. "Granger's a Mudblood was you said, punishing her seems like an extra bit of work."

"That doesn't sound like you at all," Blaise whined, momentarily pouting. "You used to go out of your way constantly to screw with the lives of Potter and his friends. Is it so unheard of that I would go after Granger?"

"I just don't see the reasoning," Draco admitted, shrugging one shoulder. "She has no particular meaning to you, and to boot she's one of the most-watched faces in the magical world. If we weren't in school right now the media would've caught wind of her _mysterious_ curse. And you'd be facing time in Azkaban and soon as she admitted it."

Blaise laughed, his eyes dancing with life. "I'm not worried Draco, and you must learn to relax. She's not going to breathe a word."

Narrowing his eyes, Draco sipped the remainder of the drink before tossing it aside, watching it bounce into the rubbish bin. "Why the hell won't she? You should be worried Blaise. I may have found out by accident, but now that your spell hasn't killed her she's more than willing to tell everyone what's really going on."

 _I pray to Merlin that's true._

Shaking his head, he never once lost his air of arrogance. "Draco, come now. Don't be rash. You don't seriously think that I put this whole thing together without an insurance policy, do you?"

"An insurance policy?"

"But of course." Blaise reached up, tapping the side of his head. "Of course she'll get up the gumption to tell someone, that's a given. I knew the moment I decided to curse her that she'd eventually get brave enough to say something. I simply put another spell in place to counteract this. The girl was fucking dying when I cursed her! I doubt she even remembers it."

Draco stiffened, unsure he wanted to hear what Blaise did. If he asked he would have too much information, and he might actually start wanting to help his bleeding roommate.

After all, she couldn't rightly just bleed out every night. He'd have noticed the stench of blood at some point and would've asked questions either way.

"What secondary curse?"

Tapping the side of his head again, Blaise winked. "Trauma. She'll literally start losing her mind, hallucinating and seeing things that aren't there if she talks. No one's going to believe her if she sounds batty. And if the bint is smart enough to throw it off, and I'm not arrogant enough to believe that isn't a possibility, then her mouth, throat and tongue will bleed when she tries to speak and it will continue until she stops or dies."

Surprised, the blond didn't have a response to that. This was intricate magic, the type that Draco himself had little practice with. To cast such a spell – _no_ , a curse – on someone took an immense amount of magical strength, not to mention the intricacies of compiling multiple spells and requirements into a single binding act.

Blaise didn't do this on a whim. Whether the spell was originally planned for Granger or simply happenstance was not important. He intended to lock someone into this binding curse, trapping them behind requirements that might not even be obvious.

And if Granger was bound to be harmed again by simply trying to tell the truth, then he had to keep her from saying something yet. At least he knew, and that was something.

Now he just needed to decide if he would do anything to help.

"I can see the gears in your mind turning," Blaise continued, looking amused as he glanced around the room. "I won't bore you with all the details Draco, and I'm not certain you can yet be trusted with them. Your loyalties still teeter between light and dark, but I believe you can be persuaded overtime. Watch the head girl in the coming weeks, you'll see a difference I'm sure."

Biting the inside of his cheek, Draco forced his internal battle to be quiet. He needed to speak carefully with Blaise. For whatever reason he was giving him information, but just because he was being upfront about things didn't mean he was truthful. "You still haven't explained how this benefits you."

"In due time Draco, in due time," Blaise remarked, reaching out to squeeze his friends shoulder. He stiffened beneath the hold, reading Blaise's body language. He seemed at ease about everything but something was off, hovering behind his eyes.

Doubt. Be it for his plan or Draco's faith in him, Blaise had something to doubt. Draco hoped it at least stayed that way.

"Oh, and one last thing," Blaise continued, filling the silence when he didn't speak again. "It's not going to be so easy anymore for someone to just _happen_ across Granger's physical appearance. I've been able to successfully place a spell on her since you found out, so now those who do not know of the situation will see nothing wrong, other than her outward pain. As far as their understanding goes, she'll just look like a girl in an odd amount of pain."

"I suppose that keeps your cover from being blown," Draco muttered, shaking off his hand. "You wouldn't want to leave a sliver of room for your plans to fail."

"No, that would be foolish of me. I've learned from our lord's mistakes."

Draco's eyebrows drew together, hating that term. It implied that Draco still worshipped that maniac, and he'd learned along the way that Voldemort was not pushing for a better world, but simply trying to destroy the present one. "I've heard enough. Clearly your main goal is to watch Granger suffer. Fine, have it your way. I think you've taken some extreme measures, but I'm not going to fight with you. Do whatever you please."

 _But I still don't agree with you. All that torture was supposed to be left behind when the war ended, not shift into our school instead._

Blaise nodded, but his eyes were practically glowing. He didn't buy Draco's lie, and the blond didn't care. So long as it sated his friend for the time being, that's all that mattered. "I'm not sure you can detach yourself from the mudblood long enough to hold true to those words."

"What are you implying?"

"If you were so impartial towards her wellbeing, you would've let her fight herself when we ran into each other," he replied, smirking. "You've already shown me that you at least have empathy for the girl. That could be dangerous."

"Dangerous for whom, exactly?"

"Well, that depends on where your loyalties lie." He raised his glass, cheering Draco's drinkless hand. "But that's enough talk for one night, don't you think? It's late, and we've drawn enough attention to ourselves. Go on, party. There are plenty of eyes watching you."

Narrowing his eyes, Draco didn't stop him from sweeping past and returning to the same group of people he was with before. Glancing around he did note the odd stares they received from the people still awake, partying amongst themselves but distracted by the whispering duo.

Off to the side he noticed Daphne and Theo sitting together talking, the girl looking like she'd been crying. Well, at least he knew where she was now. Deciding nothing good could come from staying he moved towards the door, hoping to escape the tension filled room before anyone could catch him.

No such luck.

"Have a chat?" Theo asked, cutting him off at the door. He'd left Daphne alone, the girl staring down at her feet. "So glad you could finally be bothered to show up."

"I had some things to attend to."

"Yeah, that's what Blaise said. Really Draco, you took some damn patrols on a Saturday night? What the hell is wrong with you? Most of the time you don't even go on your own patrols and now you're ditching us to hang out with Granger?"

 _That cheeky bastard told on me._

"Something came up," he replied, shrugging. "Since Blaise knows everything about my life now maybe you should ask him what the fuck's going on."

Shoving past Theo, he let the door slam behind him. He didn't need this right now. He had enough things on his mind without worrying about without wondering what his precious friends thought of him from blabbermouth Zabini.

Didn't he have something better to do than tattle?

Shaking his head, Draco tried to focus. He'd only had one drink, an extremely light one at that and yet his emotions were starting to feel supercharged. Even when he was drunk he didn't usually feel this wired.

Maybe something was wrong.

No, he wouldn't think like that. Blaise was just trying to get in his head and make him feel bad for helping out the Mudblood. It was totally unfair, but he was beginning to believe a lot of things Blaise did didn't follow the rules.

He just didn't get why.

By the time he made it to the dorm door he was feeling light headed. Something was definitely wrong. He could drink with the best of them and not end up this unsure with his footing.

Falling into the door he was finally able to mutter the password, practically falling into the room when it opened up. Damn, the bloody thing seemed to be moving fast…

Fast. He liked fast things. Brooms, drinks, partners…

Draco shook his head. He couldn't focus. The entire room was starting to spin, something he hadn't experienced in years since he began drinking. Running a hand down his face he tried to keep his mind on track, feeling his head lull as a wave of unexpected heat swept over him.

Nearly cursing, he realized what happened. Blaise must've cast a spell when he handed him the drink, somehow successfully drugging him.

A spell that could do the same damage as a potion… that's some serious magic levels there.

Stumbling towards his room, Draco tried to keep his eyes focused on the door but found them constantly drooping down to his feet. He only made it a couple meters away from his door before he found himself falling forward, slamming into the ground with an undignified drunk.

 _God damn wanker._

Draco let his eyes slip shut, feeling a wave of exhaustion fall over him. Distantly he thought he heard the sound of a door opening, but that was probably his imagination.

* * *

Hermione, momentarily stunned to find the blond man passed out in their living room, took several moments to compose herself before stepping forward.

What was this dimwit doing out this late? She wanted to deal with Zabini in the morning after she had some time to think of what she really wanted to do. She needed to do this before she lost her nerve.

But something was wrong. They both went to sleep hours ago so he shouldn't be dressed like he just came from somewhere. Crouched beside him now she could clearly see he was wearing school robes, not any form of sleep attire.

So he'd gone out. She wondered why before remembering it was none of her business. Unless he was out making Zabini more of a problem for her she didn't need to actually care.

It's not like he cared what she did either.

Crouching beside Malfoy now, she hesitantly brushed his fringe out of his face. He really did look awful, eyes half closed and muttering something to himself as he laid there. She wasn't even sure if he was conscious.

"Erm… Malfoy?"

"The… r-o…"

She frowned, pressing one hand to his forehead. He had a fever going, his skin almost burning her to touch. Stepping back she immediately assessed his position. He had to have fallen, and he could potentially be drunk but his breath really didn't smell that bad. Pulling her wand from her bathrobe pocket she levitated him onto the couch, watching his facial expressions as she moved him.

If he was awake before, he wasn't now. The git was _snoring_.

"Maybe he is drunk," she muttered, moving back towards her room. She'd heard Malfoy come back absolutely smashed before, and this was different. He was either a jerk or snoring incredibly loudly, but not lightly and not muttering nonsense. Something didn't feel quite right.

Digging through her drawers she found a pepper-up potion, hoping this would do the trick if he was just drunk. She wanted to know where he was. Zabini was a Slytherin after all, and Malfoy had some sort of bizarre interest in her predicament. She hoped he hadn't picked a fight with the arrogant Italian, or worse tried to figure out what he wanted.

She wasn't even sure about that.

"Okay Malfoy, wake up," she grunted, returning to the common room. He was still dozing, lost in his own little world. She grabbed his shoulder, shaking him a couple times until he grunted, cracking one eye open to glare at her. "That's better."

Without warning she shoved the vial into his slightly gaping mouth, ignoring the surprised look when his eyes widened. Using every bit of her strength she made him down the potion, recognition dancing in his eyes. Well, hopefully he realized what she was trying to do.

Malfoy nearly ripped the vial out of his mouth when it was empty, throwing it across the room. She let him, falling back onto the chair next to him, eyes staring into his. At least he didn't seem so exhausted now.

"Bloody hell Granger," he muttered, sitting up to grab his head. He looked confused, staring around the room like he wasn't sure how he got there. "How long was I out?"

"A couple minutes maybe. I heard you come in and collapse. Too much drinking?"

He flashed her a glare, sitting straighter on the sofa. His eyes were dark, mixed with some sort of hate she didn't usually see. "No."

"Oh. Are you going to make a habit of passing out in the common room then?"

She could see the vein by his temple bulging, his annoyance almost comical as they sat there. "It's not from drinking, at least not from the alcohol itself. I think Blaise drugged me."

Eyes widening, she tightened her hands into the seat of the chair, holding on for dear life. "Why… why would he do that?"

"Oh I don't know," he snapped, shaking his head. "To send a message, for the fun of it, who knows. I should've never had the beer he offered. He did something in passing it off to me."

"Why, why would he drug you? He didn't seem angry earlier at you when we… when we ran into each other in the halls."

"I told you, I don't know. Maybe it's a warning. I know about your curse, but he was pretty insistent that no one else will find out."

Hermione hesitated a moment, unsure she really wanted to know where this was going. "What do you mean?"

Malfoy relayed his encounter to her, her fear spiking the longer he told the story. So Zabini did have precautions set in case she wanted to blab. Either he just set those in place when he realized Malfoy found out and wasn't being totally truthful, or Malfoy was an exception to these so-called rules since he found out on his own.

"Even if I try to tell someone, it's not going to work," she whispered, staring at the floor. "He's caught me, with almost no extra effort. If I tell anyone else, it'll just kill me."

"It could be total bull," he reasoned, staring at her. "We have no reason to believe what he said. It all seems very convenient, doesn't it? He can't have a solution to everything, there's no way he can anticipate every outcome and obstacle. Even if some of it's true there's no way all of it can be."

"And how do you propose we find out what is and isn't, hmm? Should I just try telling or showing someone else and see if I bleed out while they can't see a thing? Maybe I should just run up to Harry and Ron and demand that they talk to Zabini themselves, that'll do the trick. Why don't we get everyone killed while we are at it."

Malfoy arched an eyebrow, giving her an unimpressed look. "Don't you think that's kind of extreme?"

"All of it's extreme," she grumbled, shifting her gaze around the room. "It's dangerous to test his threats anyways when I don't even know what to believe. Telling you was a mistake to begin with."

"I resent that. If I didn't find out you'd still be wandering around suffering all by yourself in that pitiful state I found you in." He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to one side. "How did that potion work anyhow?"

"It helped," she agreed, giving him a brief smile. "The pain was definitely less, which is more than I accomplished on my own. It's almost dawn, the pain usually starts to go away by now. It just left a little earlier today so… thanks."

"Told you, you just needed one of my potions," he smirked, ignoring her irritated look. "Now if you excuse me I have to brew myself something. Pepper-up potions are nice, but I don't trust Blaise. I want something stronger to make sure whatever that was goes away. Good thing he was never all that powerful when it came to enchanting things, just curses I guess."

Hermione nodded, believing that wholeheartedly. "I'll think about what you've told me. I don't know what to do to be completely honest. I thought I might be ready but now… I don't know how much more pain I can take."

"I figured you'd say that," he grumbled, standing from the sofa. Her eyes followed his movements, looking increasingly troubled. "Whatever Blaise tried to do failed on me. If you still insist on keeping it a secret, fine. I'll just have to tell someone myself. After all, he didn't say doing anything will kill me."

* * *

 **A/n:** So here's chapter five. Do you think Blaise was being truthful or lying to save face? Let me know! Hopefully I can get another chapter out in two weeks instead of almost four…


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